Rosalía's Talking Flower Pussy Debut
Rosalía von Bloomhart stood once again in the center of the camera angle. Between her obscenely splayed thighs, her already soaking wet flower pussy was blatantly on display. Spreading herself wide open in front of everyone. An act that utterly demolished her dignity to the very end. Anyone who saw her like this would look down on her, treat her like a loose public toilet they could spread open anytime. Just imagining that hopeless future...
Her masochistic pussy—ruined for life between her legs—twitched and quivered. Thick love juices gushed out from deep inside her hole in heavy spurts.
"Eunggh...♡ You really want me to do this?"
Tears welled up in her eyes as she gritted her teeth. It was all the doing of that flabby muscle pig, Brant von Eisen. Rosalía's true master was Descartes, but Brant had borrowed her training rights for the time being. He'd sidled up and whispered the humiliating script in her ear.
Even she—who'd cleared that sleazy netorare game after my death, her brain thoroughly soaked in lewd demons—furrowed her brow in irritation and glared at Brant like she wanted to kill him.
"...Fuck off. No way in hell."
Raw profanity flew from her soft, moist pink lips. Normally, she'd dismiss it as meaningless word salad and never even utter a curse. But now she growled it out with genuine disgust.
"You butter-smeared pork belly pig bastard... go die."
But when Descartes propped his chin up and fixed her with an expectant gaze, her rebellion ended there. Drool leaked from the corners of Rosalía's mouth. She trembled violently, desperately smothering her innate fury with base waves of pleasure.
"Euuugh... haaaaaah...♡"
Shame and submission. Her pale, baby-smooth skin flushed red as if feverish. What came next was utter madness, something no sane person could pull off. So she forced her eyes into a coy squint, plastering on the vapid, cutesy face of a lowly bitch in heat.
It was shocking. Was this really that transcendent genius who'd devoured the Imperial Academy? Reality itself evaporated. The onlookers were breathing raggedly too. Of course, this was a memory manifestation—an illusion.
But her pussy stayed spread in an O-shape for all to see. Then her thighs gaped even wider in vulgar invitation. Her slender, pitiful hands slid down to her crotch. Her fingers gripped the slightly parted labia minora petals and yanked them apart viciously. Then she grabbed the wriggling anterior labia wings and spread them wide open. Wide enough to expose her cervix entrance completely. A gaping rhombus of pink mucosa. The worn-out fuckhole inside that wouldn't close anymore. She proudly bared her most intimate secret without hiding a thing.
"Huuu...♡ haaat..."
A sigh laced with sweet rose perfume spilled from her lips. Her soft breasts, beaded with cold sweat, heaved with her languid breaths. A droplet of sweat like a glass bead trembled at her nipple tip before plopping to the floor.
Extreme embarrassment. Her body heat boiling from shame created a steamy haze around her. Hot vapor rose from her crown like a steam train whistle.
The air grew thicker, hotter.
"Hm. It's about time we got going."
Descartes glanced at his luxury wristwatch and urged her on. Rosalía's shoulders jerked at his words. Her tomato-red cheeks forced up into an exaggerated smile. Drool trickled from her twitching lips onto her breasts.
"Ah, nooo! Wait pleeease! My steamy flower pussy...♡"
Playing cute with heavy nasal baby talk, rolling her tongue for effect. She wiggled the labia minora gripped in her fingers like lips. Making it look like her pussy was talking, opening and closing the wings. Sticky love juices stretched like silver threads between the breaths of her pulsing hole.
-Squelch!Splurt...Twitch twitch.
"Haaangh...♡ eunggh...♡"
Pussy juice beaded stickily and dripped onto the marble floor. Every time her pussy lips parted and closed, her brow twitched with shame. Mimicking a real talking pussy, she switched to a cutesy falsetto like a voice actress.
Her genius talent for netorare acting, honed for this very moment. Now wasted on cheap, vulgar impressions in front of her classmates.
Brant stifled laughter as he played interviewer.
"Heh... ahem. So, how old is our cute little flower pussy?"
"Juuust turned aduuult...♡ Our pussies become full-grown grown-ups once they get pierced by a cock...♡"
This part was probably total improv. No time to script it. Just the concept and actions dictated. Her brilliant mind, now servicing horny cocks from strangers.
Disqualified as a woman. But she's my soulmate. Perfect score, way beyond passing.
"So what's our flower pussy's dream? Meeting lots of hot guys?"
"Ahhat♡ Correct...♡ Myy dreeeam is... in the future... to become a loose, nasty cumdump... with a sloppy flower pussy...♡"
-Squelch...Pfshht♡
Every time her pussy opened and closed, squeezing her sphincter, clear juice squirted out.
"Thaat's whyyy... the dumb Rosalía up top... haas to bring back looots of tasty cocks...♡"
"So what's a flower pussy's job? Just twitching around?"
Fury flashed in Rosalía's golden eyes. Her shoulders shook violently, but she wracked her brain for a sleazy response to Brant's taunt.
"Iii'm for squeezing... and baby-making...♡ Bringing back hot cocks is the shell up top's job...♡"
It'd be less humiliating to get gangbanged by dozens. Smiling wide about becoming a wrecked, winged fuckhole in the future.
"How many guys have you fucked so far?"
"Dunnooo...♡ Never counted...♡"
"What's your favorite cock feel like?"
Brant's relentless probing. Rosalía rolled her eyes back, dredging up fantasy pleasure.
"Mmm... A stupidly huge, thick glans... that pounds my womb so hard it warps my pussy shape permanently...♡ Or ones so deformed... my tight pussy clings like a suction cup...♡"
Breathtakingly detailed, vulgar description.
"When pulling out... the way my walls and cervix cling stickily... I looove that...♡ Getting stabbed deep by those long, massive cocks... squealing and creampied raw...♡ And the perfect match is Descartes-sama's imperial cock...♡ Hohot."
She slapped her drenched mound with a wet smack.
"I wanna turn into a dark, experienced, well-used sloppy pussy soon!! This pretty pink pussy... gonna get all black and filthy...! B-bye! My pretty pussy...!"
The final line came not from the talking pussy, but from the shell on top—Rosalía's mouth.
The camera lens zoomed tight on her crotch.
"Euuugh♥──!!?"
-Tremble tremble...!
Tidal squirt erupted between her quaking thighs. But her second master's sadism didn't stop there.
"Don't forget the closing line."
"I seek... a sturdy husband type... to fuck me raw until my pussy turns black... and my labia minora are tattered...!"
Rosalía bowed her head. Curtain call.
"......"
Silence. Dead quiet.
Rosalía. What the hell did you just do?
No wonder she didn't want to show it. Brant was a total psycho.
The silence didn't last. The watching guys burst into laughter, jerking off and splattering the floor.
Descartes clapped in satisfaction, roaring with laughter, then led his crew out of the Studio.
For a long while, Rosalía stood there blankly in that naked spread-leg pose. Had she forgotten what she'd spewed in front of her classmates? Or had her masochism—potent as strong liquor—wiped her memory clean?
Her dazed, vacant expression.
"......"
Rosalía, spewing shameful words from her pussy in that retarded pose. Utterly pathetic, the cheapest slut imaginable. In a word: fucking hot as hell.
-Splurt...!Splatter!!
"...Fucking pervert."
White semen spurted from the real dick in my hand. A self-deprecating curse slipped out unbidden.
But then.
"......?"
In the center of the studio. The illusory Rosalía, pupils dilated, staring at the floor—suddenly stiffened her shoulders. Slowly. Very slowly. She raised her head.
Into the studio void. Straight at me, peeking through the System.
Her gaze locked precisely with mine in mid-air.
"Wha... K-Karn!?"
She snapped back to her senses.
"Haa... heekkk~~!? O-ohohiit!?"
"Uh, uh... Rosalía?"
Could she hear my voice? Wasn't this just a memory playback?
Her eyes widened to saucers.
"O-ohhh!?......"
Panic flooded her golden eyes. The fact that I'd watched her—played by men's schemes, baring her pussy wide in front of stinking cock-scented males, mimicking a 'talking flower pussy.'
All of it. From start to finish.
That overwhelming truth shattered the her in the memory.
"Ahahaha............"
───!!
A scream that wasn't even words. Life's ultimate embarrassment. Human dignity crumbling to dust. Those emotions instantly transmuted into the lowest, highest pleasure.
Rosalía's waist buckled.
-Pssshhh!!......Sssshhhhhh!!!
"Nnghooooo♡♡-!!!!!!"
The shock of being caught in what should never be seen utterly broke her pussy.
-Sssshhhhhh!!!Pssshhhhhaaa—!!
Tidal squirt fountained up like a geyser, drenching the floor toward the studio ceiling.
"Heegguuk...♡ eeeunggh♡♡ Ut, aaaah...♡ My, my pu-puussy... it's brooo ken...! K-Karn saw iiiit—!!!!♡♡♡"
Endless aftershocks of climax. Her tongue lolled out long. Drool streamed down her chin, her face broken into idiot bliss. The squirt didn't end with one burst. Like a burst hose, her pussy hissed chiiik!chiiiiiik! spewing nonstop.
"Ahee...♡ ahahahaha, oook...... cumming again... agaaain!?♡"
My glitchy brain supplied the answer to my question. A common trope in fiction. Those who reach world-transcending realms retain residual consciousness even in recorded footage or memories of their past selves. They notice if the world is secretly altered or time rewound. They observe back at the observer peeking at them, through their lingering thoughts. Like a vaccine.
So this past remnant had noticed me.
And that meant one thing.
The original villains' faction. The ascension the Heavenly Assembly so desperately craved.
Rosalía von Bloomhart.
She had already set foot in that unfathomable realm of mystery.