Breath Control
"Not bad, you put up a fight, but you couldn't surpass your limits. Admit your defeat?"
"...Tch."
Cleo seemed more pissed about the clean, undeniable loss than missing out on her reward. If I'd pulled some cheap trick, she might've had an excuse, but I won fair and square—no room for complaints. Come to think of it, it's been ages since I won without any bullshit cheats. I even gave her three chances; if she'd stabbed my nipple even once, it'd have been her win. I would've happily played with her pussy no problem. No real risk for me anyway.
But a loss is a loss. No arguments—she's gotta take her punishment.
"100 seconds of choking, huh. Hah, suits you. Fine, I lost fair and square. I'll take it full-on."
True to her southern foreigner roots worshiping martial arts, she accepted defeat with style. ...Or so it'd look if her crotch wasn't already soaking through. Nah, her maso instincts are just kicking in, turning punishment into a treat. Not that any of these mutt pussies wouldn't see anything from me as a reward.
Erika's on timing duty.
"Go ahead, do your worst!"
Tough talk, but her thighs trembling on my lap scream she's scared shitless. Controlling breath is basically controlling everything about a person. One slip, and it's death or permanent damage. Even without that, choking hurts like hell. Any bitch with a survival instinct knows to be terrified.
Not that I give a fuck about coddling her.
"Here we go. One~ two~ three!"
"Guh, guuuuuhhh!!"
No games—I go full throttle from the start. Squeeze her windpipe shut, no mercy, zero oxygen allowed. I'm no pro killer or fighter, so I can't fully block it, but the pain? That's real as fuck for her.
"...Ngh, guuuuhhh... Ah, aaaaaahhh... Aaah..."
"Jeez, why the thrashing and wailing? This is your punishment. Backing out now? Too late."
Cleo flails instinctively, trying to break free. In this world, girls can match guys in strength, so a wild one like her is a handful. For anyone but me. Any tough bitch melts in my arms—powerless meat for my use.
I wedge her kicking legs between mine to pin 'em. Same for her arms—suppress the resistance. Now she's helpless, just feeling her airway crush shut.
"Gack... guh... guh... hng..."
"Already fading? Hey, Erika~ How long?"
"Uh, um... Just passed 30 seconds."
"For real? Only that much and she's bitching already? All that tough talk, and she's this weak?"
Makes sense—act strong all you want, shove my dick in and she turns into a flailing mess. Just a girl. Weak as they come.
"Um... She lost the bet fair and square, but isn't this getting dangerous? It looks like real trouble."
Erika pipes up cautiously. I'm just enjoying my legit win perks—no reason to listen. But whatever...
"If it's just pain, that's no fun. Gotta mix in some pleasure too."
"Wh-what?"
Ignore her confusion, slide my hand down to Cleo's crotch. Her pussy's been throbbing in anticipation from the nipple play. Leotard outline soaks as I stroke~ stroke~ up, then flick her swollen clit♥
"Hng♥ Hn, guuuuhhh♥♥"
Voice crushed, she just gurgles, but thrashes her hips wilder than from pain alone... Nope♥ No escaping, toy. I clamp her legs harder, block the bucking, ramp up the clit torment.
"You said it looked painful? Pleasure cancels that out. Not so pitiful now, right?"
"N-no... No..."
Erika clamps her lips, speechless. Good thing she shut up—one more word and I'd have disciplined her. Knows her place~ Cleo owes her, though. Got bonus clit play outta nowhere.
-Squirt♥Shhhprrt♥♥♥-
"Ah, squirting already? What a sloppy mutt pussy."
Didn't even go hard—just rubbed the axe-wound slit, flicked her clit like bouncing a water drop. Breath control's a whole kink back home for a reason; oxygen deprivation fogs the brain but sharpens pussy nerves. People off themselves chasing it—imagine here?
"How many seconds left?"
"Uh, 20 more! B-but is this really oka—"
"Hm."
Blocking Cleo's breathing for 1+ minute may cause brain damage.
Remaining time: 59 seconds
Proof this world's a game. Breath play's lethal if you fuck up—dancing on death's edge for pleasure is insane. But the system warns me not to break my toys. Only I get these alerts; the girls just thrill on pure terror.
"Alright, time to crank it up. Let's see how far you can choke-orgasm."
Slip my hand inside the slick leotard. Spread her packed, sticky pussy hole wide—glug glug glug, juices spill out. Shove two fingers in that greedy slut-gash and~
-Scrub~scrub~scrub~scrub~♥-
"~~~~~~♥♥♥!!!!"
Upper mouth blocked, no words—just her lower one begs. Hips lift max, pleading for finger-fucks. More, please~ Touch this hole-slut's pussy joy~~~♥♥♥
-Squirt♥ Shprrt♥ Shhhprrrt♥♥-
Leotard maxed out, gives up the ghost. Might be trash now. Whatever, she's loaded—buy a new one.
One finger twirl, one orgasm. Not true dick-depth climaxes, but peak girl-made pleasure, mine with a flick. These world bitches? Pathetic.
-Beep!-
"...! 1, 100 seconds! Time's up!"
"Okay~"
Pull fingers from her pussy, ease grip on throat. Cleo, slumped fully on me, flops to the floor with a splat! Looks painful, but these girls are tanks—no worries. Worry's her piss leaking from that loose urethra.
"The hell? This ain't a toilet. Wanna piss? Use one."
"Huuuuhhh... Suuuuuuhhh! Haaaaah... Suuuuuuhhh! Haaaaaaa..."
Too busy gulping air to stand—or notice she's pissing herself. Pathetic. Forgot only I get to soil this classroom? Girls can be toilets, not turn class into one.
"Clean your own mess with your hands! Got it?"
Smack! Palm-print on that fat ass, her pussy squirts reflexively.
"Nyoooooo..."
Idiot moan, ass wagging~ seducing cock on instinct. Loved the breath play, huh? Maso bitches live for this—maybe better than all-night pussy play.
"So... Wanna go another round? Who's up?"
Like their hesitation never happened, half the class shoots hands up. Hmm, who next~?