Chapter 2 - ... If You Can't Afford...

Lauren was not happy as she trotted through the hanger, her skin pricked with gooseflesh as the cool of the morning air washed over her. She was used to not wearing much around base, a mech's cockpit could spike hot enough to boil a pilot alive, and even during normal operations, it was uncomfortably warm. So pilots tended to dress light. Shorts of a tight, clinging material that barely came halfway down her thighs and a light tank top that was made for breathability rather than modesty. Her only real bit over coverage was the thick material of her cooling vest, the hoses bouncing against the back of her leg as she walked along.

That wasn't what bothered her, she was used to showing off, and she was used to people staring. There was a joke that most mech techs got into the gig because it was a great way to ogle pretty girls- and Lauren was prettier than most. Short and petite, her small frame nevertheless had some impressive curves. Thick hips that swayed in time with every step, and a bubble but that bounced and wiggled, a pair of beautifully full and round globes strangled by the tight cling of her shorts. And her vest was left undone, open enough to show the plunging cleavage her tanktop revealed, dark skin that wobbled gently as she walked as if testing the fabric to see if they could bounce themselves free.

But she dressed like this nearly every day- a mech’s cockpit was about six feet above an active fusion powerplant, and even the best heat management systems meant a pilot would find themselves nice and toast while their mech was operational. And when the weapons started firing and demanding more power, the fusion engine cycled up and the heat just got worse. Everyone who’d spent any time in a mech knew a rookie pilot who got a little too free and frisky with their heat overrides and cooked themselves in their mech. The smell as the techs hosed them out was something you’d never forget. So mechwarriors dressed as lightly as they could, and still prepared to sweat through whatever they were wearing. So she was used to strutting around base like a cheap whore, and the catcalls of the hanger staff didn't even phase her anymore. No, what bothered her was why she was dressed like this when she should have been off-duty. Why she was strutting through the hanger like she was a runway model when she should have still been all cozied up in her bunk, sleeping off last night’s hangover.

"Morning, princess," a cheery voice called, and Lauren's frown deepened. Tyler gave her a jaunty wave as he hung out of Bug Hunt's cockpit, the huge man seeming to fill the space under the swing-up canopy and spill out over the edge. And there was the source of her problem, all six feet of arrogantly smirking jackass.

“Get the hell out of my cockpit,” she called, scowling up at him. The expression only deepened as he laughed, leaning further out of her mech to wag a finger at her.

“Ah, ah, ah - don’t you mean *my* cockpit?” 

“Right. I’m coming out there and tossing your ass out,” she snapped, anger gripping her as she grabbed the ladder on her mech and started to haul herself upward. It blossomed into white-hot fury as Tyler's smile got even broader.

"I'm more interested in your ass than mine," he called, loud enough for the whole hanger to hear.

*He’ll be fine*, Lauren told herself as she sped up, practically flying up the ladder. It was barely twenty feet from the cockpit to the hanger floor, he’d probably be able to survive the fall if he tucked and rolled. Her mech was a toy among giants, even in the series of bays set aside for the company's scout lance. Barely half the weight of her lance leader's machine Griffin, Bug Hunt looked anemic and undersized next to the heavier, slab-armored humanoids of her lancemates.

Part of the reason, besides the height, was that there really wasn’t all that much to it. An LCT-1S Locust was basically just a pair of spindly, backward jointed legs attached to an angular, jutting cockpit. A medium laser mounted under the cockpit was its main weapon, and a rather pitiful one at that, backed up by a pair of SRM packs, one on either side of the cockpit. It was the kind of armament bigger mechs would carry as a close-ranged fall-back to their heavier, main weapons. The only kind of mech the Locust could fight one on one would be another locust, and even then only because the armor was paper-thin in places. Even most of her company held the Locust in some disdain. No armor, no weapons, no hope of survival. But Lauren was fond of her machine. It was common, which meant parts were cheap and easy to find and was built so simply the techs could fix it even if they were drunk, concussed, and blindfolded. 

And it was fast. Bug Hunt could leave the entire company in the dust, and that speed had stopped more projectiles than any amount of armor. And the joy she felt as she streaked through a skirmish, her missiles tagging holes in armored brutes that carried Bug Hunt's whole weight in weapons, was a sensation that couldn't be matched or beat. An adrenaline high that left her shaky and grinning for days.

She was shaking now, but it was from a mix of anger and humiliation that was like acid in her stomach, burning its way through her as she climbed up toward the cockpit, knuckles white as she gripped the textured tape wrapped around the ladder rung. Her boots rang on the steel as she hauled herself upward, dragging herself up and swinging her legs to sit on the rim of the Locust's cockpit glaring at Tyler as he sank back into the pilot's seat, still grinning and looking happy as could be.

"Listen up, asshole," Lauren started, poking Tyler in the chest with a finger. "Let's get something straight about this little arrangement, you-"

"No, you listen," the big tech interrupted, his voice frigid with the same cold anger that had so cowed her the night before. He was still smiling, but it was as transparent as ice, revealing the anger underneath. "I know what you're about to say, and I don't want to fucking hear it every time I collect. I'm doing you a damn favor, princess. You fucking tried to cheat me, you *knew* the commander wouldn't let you dispossess yourself and you tried to take advantage of that fact. You don't get to be pissy because you didn't get away with it."

He reached out, flicking a finger against one of her nipples, the thin fabric of her shirt doing nothing to protect the tender nub. Lauren squeaked in protest, an electric shock jolting through her body and nearly tipping her backward off her perch. Only a strong hand grabbing her kept her from falling backward to the hanger floor, pale and rough calloused fingers grabbing her arm hard, stark against her dark skin.

"We can do it this way," he continued, his voice low as he held her, staring into her eyes with an intensity and hunger that made Lauren squirm. "You can be a good girl, accept you lost, and suck my dick like I'm telling you to. You can pay off every c-bill you owe me with that delightful body of yours over the next few months and we'll call it good.. Or we can go back to the commander so she can chew you out some more and dock your pay for the next few years. Your choice princess, but you gotta make it now."

Lauren glared at him, trying to come up with a witty retort or a defiant comeback, but could come up with nothing. He had her, and she knew it. Maybe she hadn't exactly been trying to cheat him, but… he wasn’t wrong. Kilian wouldn't let her scout lance operate short, especially not for such a stupid reason. It was a risk to the other pilots that the commander simply would not accept or allow. And part of Lauren had known that maybe even counted on it…

"Fine," she spat. Shifting uncomfortably on the rim of the cockpit. They must have been doing a test run of the reactor earlier because she felt hot now that she was up here next to Tyler, her face flushed and she lifted a hand to fan herself. It was a stubborn heat, too, not just warming her face but sunk deep into her very core.

"Well?"

"Well, what?" She snapped, her attention jerking back to Tyler.

The tech rolled his eyes and leaned back, making himself comfortable in the pilot seat as he jingled the zipper of his coveralls. "Well, are you going to suck my dick, or what?"

"Here?" Lauren's voice was a squawk. Heads turned and the pilot seemed to shrink in on herself as Tyler chuckled, fingers still playing with the metal of his zipper.

"Unless you want an audience I'd keep your voice down," he advised, that shit-eating grin only getting bigger as Lauren fidgeted nervously, unable to meet his gaze anymore. "I mean, if you do want an audience I can call a few guys up here…"

"You're a prick, Tyler."

"I am," he agreed, giving his zipper another rattle. "Now get to work or I'm gonna start shouting a few buddies over."

Shooting him a glare didn't even phase the big man, but it was all Lauren could do as she slid down into the cockpit. It wasn't exactly wide open space with just one person, and Tyler filled most of the available room with his broad frame. But there was just enough space for Lauren to slide down between his thighs if he pushed the seat all the way back, letting her kneel between his thighs.

It was an intimidating view, and it made Lauren tremble as she reached up and slowly took his zipper in her fingers. He really was a giant of a man, broadly built and strong enough to strain his coveralls, the ugly and oil-stained grey cloth stretched tight across strong arms and wide shoulders. It smelled faintly of his work, the laundry unable to scrub out the smell entirely. A bouquet of oil, of acrid coolant, and of old sweat. And beneath it, something else… something that pricked her nose as she slowly drew the zipper down. Past a well-muscled chest decorated with thick, curly blonde hair, past the slight swell of his stomach.

The smell got stronger, it wasn't bad but it prickled at her nose, seeming to fill every breath she took down here. It was so much hotter in the cockpit than it had been outside, and she felt a trickle of sweat roll down her back as her fingers shook. They must have been testing the engine, there was no other reason she could be feeling this hot. If she hadn’t known better, she might have compared it to the anticipation she felt before a battle. That nervous fear mingling with eagerness, the same electric thrill, and shaky rush of adrenaline. Her hand moved on autopilot, down past the fat bulge in Tyler’s coveralls. 

His cock sprang free, wracking Lauren across the jaw hard enough to make her jerk back in surprise. Tyler was a big man, but staring up at him while discussing a heatsink failure in Bug Hunt's engine was miles way from staring up at what looked like nearly a fucking foot of wrist-thick cock, pale and wrapped in thick veins that made his cock bob and jump in time with his heartbeat. Thick, syrupy pre beaded on his tip, glistening in the light, and Lauren realized the damp warmth on her jaw was more of the same. He was bigger than any man she'd ever known, his head a fat and swollen purple knob, his base crowned in a thick tangle of blonde hair.

Speechless, Lauren swallowed hard, her mouth suddenly dry as she found herself staring down the barrel of a gun that wouldn't have looked out of place on an assault mech.

"Get the whole thing out, princess," Tyler chuckled, one hand coming down to ruffle her hair and rest lightly on the back of her head. It was an annoying, casual gesture of ownership that rubbed her the wrong way, but she couldn’t complain all that much now that she was getting ready to blow him in the middle of a busy hanger. So she stayed quiet, obeying rather than complaining, intent on just getting things over with as soon as possible

Dipping a hand into his coveralls, Lauren gently drew his balls out into the open. The fat, heavy ribs barely seemed to fit in her hand, and they sagged low as she set them free, spilling out onto the leather of her pilot seat. A pair of egg-sized spheres wrapped in wrinkled skin and even more wiry hair. They were warm in her palm, a humid heat that seemed to sink into her skin like a stain even as the smell of Tyler began to fill the cockpit. It was a thick, nose-stinging smell. Faint sweat and musk that pricked her nose, that reached up past her sinuses and sunk hooks into her. Thick with pheromones that forced her to grit her teeth to keep from moaning as the heat in her core cycled up, growing from a few faint embers to a crackling flame. A furnace heat in her very womb that pushed her to lean forward, to breathe deep, to touch that beautiful cock. Pulled forward, practically nose first, Lauren felt her lips meet that fat, swollen head, a soft sound escaping her lips as she got her first taste of Tyler.

"Good girl," he groaned, more than a little surprised as Lauren kissed the tip of his cock. His hand tightened in her hair as he felt her tongue flicking across his head to scoop up that rich dollop of pre and let it spill out across her tastebuds. Her lips were like pillows as she gently suckled on his tip, eyes lidded and heavy as she knelt between his thighs.

"But I bet you can take more, yeah? Cute little cocksucker like you," he continued, arrogance in his voice as he gently pressed on the back of her head.

Lauren grumbled as she felt her mouth open, lips stretching to try and take the whole of that brutally girthy shaft. Her jaw ached, the corners of her mouth burning as Tyler pushed harder and harder, groaning happily as she wrapped his whole head in wet, welcoming heat. His cock pressed forward, pushing across the welcome mat that was her tongue, letting Lauren get a proper taste. The tang of salt thick as he metaphorically wiped his feet, a few short jerks of his hips really grinding the taste of him into her tastebuds.

"Such a good girl," he repeated, beaming down at her even as she glared up at him. Her jaw was aching, tears at the corners of her eyes as he worked her mouth open like it belonged to him. Though, for the next eight months, it kind of did. All of her body did, every inch of her owned by this cocky, arrogant asshole...

"Ngggh," Lauren grunted, eyes flickering for a moment. Her thighs crushed in against each other as a brutal shock of pleasure ran down her spine, forcing her to vocalize around that cunt-chokingly big cock. It was unwanted and unwelcome pleasure, made all the worse for how he patronizingly ran his fingers through her hair like he was petting a dog that had just performed a trick.

At least he was nice enough to let her catch her breath, though not nice enough to actually let her pull off his cock. Holding her still as she breathed raggedly through her nose for a few moments, his fingers still tracing through her hair. Every breath was tainted by the smell of sweat and musk, but she was able to get control of herself. Mostly, at least. Her face still burned and she could feel wet dampness between her legs, a slow trickle down one thigh that she couldn't convince herself was just sweat. There was something about this muscled, domineering jerk that made her body want to obey. Something about his demeaning smile and constant humiliation that drove her crazy.

"Now are you going to keep sucking? Or do I need to help?" The question was innocent, almost playful, but Lauren could see the lust burning in Tyler's eyes. His hand was no longer running through her hair but holding the back of her skull, so big he could grip her head like it was a ball, biceps as big as her thigh ready to ram her roughly forward.

"Uck oou," Lauren muttered, her complaints doing nothing more than vibrating his cock, her tongue squirming and trapped beneath his girth. Defiance was nothing more than a little added pleasure for the big man.

But she started working, hands clenched into fists resting on her thighs as she started to bob her head. Lips gripping and sliding up that thick, throbbing pole, bumping over veins as she rose to the tip, only to plunge back down. The soft, wet sounds of her work filled the cockpit, deafeningly loud in her ears as proof of her shame and fall from grace. Part of her was ashamed to realize how hard she was trying, letting her tongue tease his glans, tracing the prominent ridge every time she pulled back, but she rationalized it as trying to end things faster. She didn't actually care about getting Tyler off, she just wanted this over with. If that meant giving him the best blowjob of his life, well… what was one more small humiliation?

Her head bobbed faster and faster, lips tight around his spit slicked shaft. Twisting her head slightly to add a little more friction, pushing forward each time until his cock bumped against the back of her throat, making her gag, but not slowing her down. He was groaning happily above her, hand resting on her head, stroking her hair and urging her on. His hips bucked up against her, shallow and instinctive little thrusts that Lauren rode, rising with them, rather than just letting him batter against her throat. 

It must have been a while since Tyler had visited the nearby town to spend an evening ‘socializing’ with the locals because Lauren could already feel him twitching under her tongue. Could hear his breathing getting ragged and fast, hands tightening on the back of her head as his leg started to jitter. 

“Ood oy,” she mumbled in encouragement, letting her words tickle his shaft as she picked up her pace, driving toward the finish so she could get on with her day. He seemed so damn close, just a few more seconds and...

He yanked her back, his hand a fist in her hair. The sudden jerk made her scalp burn and she yelped in pain as she popped off his cock, the fat rod jumping just inches from her face, achingly close to firing off as Tyler panted, struggling to keep from blowing his load right then and there, painting her cute face with rope after rope of sludgy seed. 

"N-not quite yet," he panted, his smile shaky but growing in assurance as his cock slowly, no longer twitching like a bronco. "I wanna fuck your throat first."

"You gonna last long enough for that?" Lauren shot back, her annoyance making her run her mouth. “Cause it looks like you’re about to pop if you feel so much as a stiff breeze.”

The big tech scowled down at her, more than a little annoyed at her lip. She had to make everything a fight, and while he couldn’t deny that her grumbling and bitching was really turning him on in a slightly worrying way, he was still starting to get sick of the constant complaining. Well, fine, if she wanted to complain he’d give her something to complain about. 

"Beg me for it," he grinned, loving every moment of her humiliation. Watching as her face turned red and outrage filled her eyes. "Beg me for it or I'll make so much noise it'll draw the attention of everyone in this hanger."

Lauren glared up at him, furious, but she could tell he wasn’t joking. He was loving humiliating her, and any opportunity to make things worse for her would be something he’d happily jump on. And so, thighs damp with unwanted and unwelcome arousal, her face flushed and her heart hammering in her chest, Lauren broke first - like she had every single time. Looking away from him and mumbling, her voice thick and defeated. 

"F-fuck my throat."

"Wrong.” His hand gripped her chin, tilting her head back until she was forced to look back into his eyes. “It’s mine now. I own your slutty throat, Lauren.” 

Releasing her chin, he gave her a slap. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, it was a mocking gesture that left her cheek stinging and rubbed the humiliation in. 

"Say it."

She glared defiantly at him, but all it seemed to do was egg him on. He liked the glares and the defiance. And he liked watching her break and obey him. He’d never get enough of seeing that face all scrunched up in anger, and the little flashes of lust in her eyes as she gave in. Humiliation winning out over dignity in her brain every single time. 

"Say it," he repeated, his words like honey as he gave her another playful slap. Grinning wide as the sharp crack made her hips jerk, humping uselessly against empty air even as she glared up at him with hate in her eyes. 

“You own my throat.”

“Good girl.” And that was all the warning she got before he slammed her down onto his cock, arms flexing as he rammed right down into her throat in a single, brutal thrust that left Lauren gagging, tears springing from the corners of her eyes as a wet, strangled *glurk* spilled from her suddenly stretched lips, now kissing the base of his cock. 

He didn’t let her take her time, or go at her own pace - he was giving her what she wanted, after all. She wanted it over fast, and he was obliging, slamming her face up and down his shaft like she was nothing more than a cheap fleshlight. Fucking her throat with a grudge, no attention paid to her comfort or pleasure as his big arms flexed and pulled. Thick, bubbly slop oozed from her nose and cascaded down her lips, a gooey mess of pre and saliva that his forceful motions churned up into froth. It splattered onto her bulging neck and bouncing tits, staining her tank top with dark splatters and splashing across the seat and floor of the cockpit. Thick ropes of it dangled from her lips, swaying and snapping to splat across Tyler’s thighs or add to the mess he was making of Lauren.

“Almost there, princess,” he growled, his motions growing more frantic, hips bucking up to meet her face each time he yanked her down. Burying her nose in his pelvis, his balls slapping off her spit-soaked chin. By now those hairy orbs are nearly as much of a mess as Lauren herself, the curly blonde hair matted and soaked with the mess he’s making, dripping onto the seat and flicking drops of pre and drool all over the pilot he’s abusing. 

He’s not giving her a chance to breathe, just hammering away even as she feels her vision starting to fade at the edges. Darkness taking little nibbles out of her sight as he ruthlessly punishes her throat. Her hands beat at his thighs, trying to push herself back, or just hold him still long enough to suck in a quick gasp of air, but he’s not allowing it. He lifts and crosses one of his legs behind her head, strong thighs locking her balls deep on his cock, trapping her there as she struggles. Her throat twitching around his cock, her nose buried in the matted, dripping tangle of hair - the smell of sex and cum filling her nose as she struggles for actual air. She can feel him twitching, feel how close he is as he pants and groans above her, but she’s just as close. Her lungs are burning, aching, as he holds her tight, enjoying the feel of her panicked, muffled noises, the way her throat is spasming and massaging his cock.

All she can do is stare up into his face, twisted with pleasure, eyes nearly crossing as his hips hump at her face, rocking his cock back and forth in tiny, half-inch thrusts. Stirring up her throat as he tries to get himself over the edge. And it’s either choke or help, so Lauren pushed out her tongue, the little pink muscle awkwardly lapping at his balls, pushing and nudging at the heavy, swollen orbs as best she can. And, thankfully, it’s enough. Her vision is almost gone, her head spinning as she hears him growl, his beefy arms pushing her harder against him for a moment as his cock jerks violently in her throat. 

And then he’s cumming like a fucking hose, each twitch of his meaty, girthy prick in her throat pumping a jet of steaming hot fuckmuck down into her stomach. There’s no choice between spit or swallow, as deeply buried as he is all she can do is swallow it down, trying desperately to keep up with the flood even as she loses focus, her head swimming as she starts to sway, held up only by his leg lock around her neck. 

Finally, mercifully, he lets go, and Lauren yanks herself back, coming off his cock with a wet, slurping pop and a wash of jizz and spit, splattering it all over herself and Tyler’s lap as she coughs and gasps, hacking up thick wads of jizz as she struggles to take a breath. But he’s not finished, his hand holding her head in position as his cock fires off a few more shots, splattering thick ropes of cum across her pretty face, adding white to the red that already colored her mocha features, and tangling in her dark hair. By the time he’s finally done, groaning and stroking a last few dripping ropes out of his slowly softening cock, she looks more like a hooker than a mechwarrior, the pretty young pilot glassy-eyed and stunned, her breathing still harsh and struggling. And it takes her nearly a minute to realize that, at some point, she’d buried her hands between her thighs, fingers stroking and working her absolutely soaked cunt. She’s panting, torn between fury and stunned arousal as Tyler gives her a tired grin, patting her head like a pet that just performed a trick.

“You okay up there?”

The voice makes them both jump, and Lauren’s expression turned into a glare as she scrubbed at her face with the back of her hand, trying to wipe the worst of the cum off her face as she scrambled up from between Tyler’s legs. He let out on ‘ooooph’ of pain as she purposefully planted a hand on his stomach to lever herself up, her heading popping up over the rim of the cockpit as she crawled up into Tyler’s lap - the only other open space in the cramped cockpit. A heavy, calloused hand came down on the small of her back, pushing just hard enough to keep her still and in place. Bent over across Tyler’s lap, her breasts crushed against the rim of her cockpit as she smiled shakily at the techs. She could feel his cock rubbing against her stomach, smearing her toned tummy with smears and ropes of warm, sticky pre.

“‘m fine,” Lauren managed, her voice tight as Tyler let his other hand stroke along her ass, fingers gripping and squeezing the ample meat as he hummed happily to himself. "Just going over the basic start-up procedures with Tylerrrrrrr!"

Her voice broke off into a clenched-jaw whine as one plate sized hand lazily swatted her ass. A clap of flesh on flesh that sounded like a gunshot to Lauren's ears, but that was probably inaudible over the noise of the hanger. It stung, her skin sizzling and reddening from the impact, even as all that bountiful meat bounced. The impact rippled through her as Tyler chuckled and stilled it by grabbing a handful and giving her another grope, digging fingers into the tender flesh. The tech looked unconvinced, and another nudged him and whispered something into his ear. The first man started, looking at his friend and then up at Lauren, squinting at her face before breaking into a wide grin. 

“Right, right,” he said, his voice thick with suppressed laughter that only made Lauren’s face feel hotter. Behind her, Tyler has pried her thick cheeks apart, his finger circling the rim of her asshole, teasing and prodding as she tried not to grimace - or turn around and slap the shit out of him. “Just showing him how to properly hand a joystick, eh?”

Lauren tried to ignore the obvious innuendo, but it was hard. Tyler’s hand had dipped down so he could sink one finger to the knuckle in her cunt, slowly twisting the digit around inside her. Stroking her clenching walls and trying to find all the little spots that made her gasp and her hips jerk. There seemed to be quite a lot of them, and by the time he drew his finger back out, it was soaked, glistening and dripping with her unwanted arousal. For all the tough talk and attitude, it seemed Lauren had been enjoying things every bit as much as her temporary owner. 

“Something like that,” she replied vaguely, her teeth clenched so hard it was difficult to speak. 

“She’s also showing me what buttons to push,” Tyler shouted helpfully, still holding Lauren down on his lap as his lubed finger started to press against her backdoor. Everyone ignored the mechwarrior’s furious squawk of protest as he started to sink his middle digit in, pressing against the resisting tightness. “I’m pretty sure I can make her purr like a cat at this point. The mech, I mean.” 

Poor Lauren felt her face twitch, trying to twist into a grimace of pain as Tyler slowly pressed forward, her tight little ass stretching around the thick knuckle of his finger with a little flash of pain.

“It’s a pretty easy mech to drive, from what I’ve heard,” the ground tech called back, leaning against an empty munitions crate as if he were taking in a show. 

“Oh, you’d be right about that,” Tyler nodded, his second knuckle popping into Lauren’s burning, aching little hole. It was too big, his huge finger more of a stretch than any toy she’d ever dared experiment with. But at the same time, it felt… right. “I’ve only been playing with it for an hour or so this morning and I already know exactly how to make it go.”

At this point, there was no keeping a straight face anymore, what Tyler was doing to her was written all over the mechjock’s face as he slowly started to pound that tight little pucker, the motions starting slow but forceful enough to make her body jerk forward and bounce, the knuckles of his hand thudding against her upraised rump hard enough to leave bruises.  And he was just getting started, working up the speed as he chatted with the techs, trading shameless innuendo and teasing as Lauren squirmed on his lap. Her face was a picture of humiliated, pleasured misery. Eyes unfocused and face red, her teeth grit as she struggled to push away the pleasure she was feeling. Maybe it was from Tyler, maybe it was from the laughter that filled her ears - or maybe it was both. Some masochistic urge awakened and tamed by the man that was sodomizing her in front of her coworkers. 

Their conversation was interrupted as Lauren let out a gasping, shuddering cry, her head falling forward as it all became too much for her. The humiliation, the faint pleasure, even the pain - all bundled together and slamming her addled brain until it gave up and hit the dopamine switch. Her muscles shook and flexed, her hips rolling and riding Tyler’s hand as he held her down, grinding his finger up inside her as she splattered his leg with femcum, juicing herself in front of the eyes that watched her. Her hair fell forward over her eyes, and it was the only relief she had, hiding the no-doubt grinning men from sight as they watched her buck and squirm her way through her orgasm, Tyler never letting up - whispering praise and encouragement into her ear the whole time. 

She didn’t hear what he told the techs as she finally rode out the last few aftershocks, slumping in his lap and panting for breath. Feeling tired and worn and humiliated - and content. She was too lost in the lapping waves of her afterglow, the slow tide of pleasure and enjoyment that left her drifting blissfully. Their laugher was the only part of their words she heard, and it echoed in her ears long after the techs had turned and walked out of hearing.

“Well? Ready to take me out for a ride?” Tyler purred in her ear. 