I'll Give You a Chance to Redeem Yourself
The room was dimly lit. A lavish crimson chandelier hung overhead, casting a soft glow over the luxurious bed. The wooden side table was laden with wine and snacks. In other words, this was a double room—with exactly one queen-sized bed.
How the hell did it come to this? Gazing out at the night view, Bianca kept agonizing over it. Her fists clenched tight, her face tense and awkward. She could practically feel cold sweat trickling down her back beneath her clothes.
Whoosh—the sound of the shower came from the bathroom, where Carlyle was washing up right now.
Going back a ways...
"Uh, so... that means two rooms, right?"
"Of course!"
After that exchange, Bianca had decided to stay the night.
It's free—why pass it up?!
Tomorrow was a holiday anyway. And for someone like Bianca, who couldn't resist the facilities of a top-tier hotel—especially the buffet—she wasn't about to say no.
But what was this?
They said two rooms!
Except that wasn't the case at all—a surprise reveal. Now that it was too late, there was no point in feeling betrayed by the staff.
How did it end up like this? Alone in a room with that guy?
Carlyle Schultz was the black-hearted type, after all. Who knew what might happen from here on out?
Truth be told, she could guess exactly what "that" might be, which was why her face was flushed tomato-red. The real kicker? She knew it and was still here anyway.
Honestly, she didn't exactly mind the act itself. If anything, she was just a little bit...
"Argh, seriously...!"
Overwhelmed by self-loathing and despair at herself, Bianca buried her face in her hands.
It all started in the Ferris wheel, when things got like that. That's when she'd first felt something strange stirring in her body.
Click.
At that moment, the bathroom door opened.
"Go wash up, Bianca."
It was Carlyle, stepping out. But this lunatic had come out practically naked!
"Y-you psycho!"
Bianca grabbed a pillow and hurled it at him right away. Carlyle just took the hit and chuckled.
"What's wrong? Between us."
"Between us what?!"
"We're past the point of pretending. You've seen it all, I've seen it all."
"Speak for yourself—I don't think so."
Her face burning crimson, Bianca shot back. She couldn't admit it, and she wouldn't anytime soon.
"Try anything funny tonight, and you're dead meat!"
Carlyle let out an incredulous laugh at her threat.
"Anyway, go shower already?"
He wasn't wrong, really. She'd been out all day, and her body felt grimy. With a sigh, Bianca brushed past him and headed in.
And while showering...
Whoosh—
Weird fantasies kept popping into her head. Her lower belly and between her legs felt unbearably needy. She wanted to die.
...I've finally lost it!
How else could she explain this? The way her body was reacting in this situation...
To him, of all people...?
Overcome with self-loathing, she scrubbed her face furiously.
No, this isn't me.
But the woman in the mirror was undeniably gorgeous, even to her own eyes. Her slender waist, modestly perky breasts, rose-tinted translucent skin. Unconsciously, Bianca swallowed hard.
I'm definitely getting pounced tonight.
Unless the guy was impotent. And Carlyle Schultz sure as hell wasn't.
If he really wanted to, she'd get swept up in it—she knew that much. And that made it all the more absurd.
Why not?!
Why didn't she feel repulsed by Carlyle Schultz, of all people?
Bianca was on the verge of going insane.
Is it the drug?
Or is this body just that horny, like he said?
No way!
She wasn't some pervert. That's what she told herself.
I'm not a pervert.
Humanity's three basic desires were unavoidable, right? And lust was one of them. If anything, she was being perfectly rational right now.
Y-yeah...!
As her thoughts spiraled, Bianca hit on a brilliant solution. The perfect way to turn this situation around!
It couldn't be helped. If she just satisfied the urge once, the weird thoughts would stop. So she put it into action right away.
"O-okay..."
Her body was already hot; the moment her fingers touched her sensitive spot, a breathy moan escaped.
"H-heh...!"
But there was one thing Bianca hadn't realized.
"Ahh... hnn..."
It had already been twenty minutes. At first, it sounded like she was just showering, but now Carlyle was starting to lose it.
What the hell is that girl doing?
Masturbating? Ignoring a perfectly available guy like him?
He barely kept his cool while listening to her moans. It was ridiculous, cheeky... but also kinda cute.
"Haha..."
Really. There was a limit to how adorable she could be. Curious to see how far she'd go, Carlyle waited quietly.
He had no idea what her intent was, but he wanted to burst in and tease her rotten—yet it was so fresh and novel that he held back.
And after a good while, she finally emerged from the bathroom. Face flushed, expression awkward.
"Why'd you take so long?"
At Carlyle's question—what, was he mad? Why the sudden seriousness?
Bianca panicked a bit but brushed it off vaguely.
"...The water was acting weird."
"It was fine earlier. You sure you were just showering?"
What the—did he...?
Cold sweat prickled down her back.
N-no way... he couldn't have heard, right?
Fidgeting and gauging his reaction, she finally answered.
"O-of course! What else would I do in the bathroom?"
All lies, of course. She'd just pleasured herself to shake off the nagging frustration. And yeah, her body felt a bit more refreshed now; she wasn't hyper-aware of Carlyle anymore.
"Ugh, I'm beat. Time to sleep."
With that, she jumped onto the bed in a screw it mood, building a pillow barricade.
"Cross this line and you're done for! Sleep on the side, the floor, whatever."
But no reply came.
Did he get petty about it?
The thought crossed her mind briefly, but whatever. He'd seen it all anyway, so Bianca really tried to drift off.
"......"
About ten minutes later? Her eyes were wide open.
What the hell is that idiot doing...?
The lights were off, but Carlyle hadn't budged from his spot. She'd brushed it off at first, but time dragged on. A quick glance back earlier showed him still standing there. With the blackout curtains drawn, the room was pitch dark; she couldn't make out his face.
But now even more time had passed.
What... the actual fuck?
Suddenly, Bianca felt a chill of fear creeping in. And of all days, they'd gone through that haunted house today—her imagination was in overdrive. A movie popped into her head about a friend getting possessed.
"C-Carlyle...?"
No response.
To check, she could just turn around like before—but she was already spooked. Cold sweat beaded on her skin.
"Hey, seriously. Quit messing around..."
Her limbs felt numb, like pins and needles; she couldn't move. She'd had this trauma since childhood, ever since her brother showed her a ghost movie and she'd freaked out.
What if... he was actually possessed?
Too scared to look, Bianca squeezed her eyes shut instead.
Ughhh...
Then, footsteps approached. She tensed up completely.
And moments later—the lights flicked on.
"Heh... hahaha!"
Laughter rang in her ears. Only then did Bianca realize: she'd been had!
This bastard...!
Irritation surged at being pranked, but the tension drained from her body all at once.
And honestly? Being so scared was embarrassing. For Carlyle Schultz to know she was still afraid of ghosts at her age...
...Of all people, him.
Angry, mortified, she slammed her eyes shut and went full pretend-sleep mode.
The soft bed dipped slightly under added weight. Carlyle, no doubt.
Then a whisper in her ear:
"Tell me, Bianca. What were you doing in there by yourself?"
She panicked inwardly but held steady. So he had heard. She'd gotten too into it, and the sounds leaked.
Don't open your eyes, no matter what!
She was desperate now.
"I know you're awake."
What she'd forgotten: Carlyle Schultz was the bold type. No interest in playing along with her childish game.
"You started the teasing first. Agree, Bianca?"
"Mmph—!"
And so, her head turned in his hand, their lips met—a natural progression.
A distant memory from long ago. As a kid, Bianca had wondered about one thing.
What does kissing feel like?
Someday she'd like a girl, things would go well, and it'd happen. It had to feel weird, she'd thought back then. Saliva and all.
Why do it? That good?
Now she knew the answer. The problem? She wasn't the guy anymore—she was the girl.
Soft, yielding lips pressed seamlessly against her dry ones.
"Mm... hn."
Breathing grew hard. Her mind blanked, head foggy. His tongue invaded, stealing her breath, driving her mad.
No... this is...
She made excuses. Told herself it wasn't her will.
Maybe he was just that skilled, making it feel good. She was losing herself.
His hand had slipped behind her head ages ago. Their lips mashed, sucked, delved deep, tasting each other's breaths.
"Haa... haa..."
When they parted, Bianca gasped for air. The strange sensation from the Ferris wheel revived.
"How was today?"
Out-of-left-field question. Carlyle asked with sudden seriousness, snapping her back to reality.
"...What do you mean, how was it."
"I had a pretty great time on our date."
"D-date...?!"
Bianca's brain stalled. What nonsense—
Carlyle was baffled by her reaction.
For real?
It was obviously a date. And she hadn't even registered it? First time he'd met a girl this oblivious.
But whatever—good was good.
"What comes after a date is set in stone."
With that, he leaned in again. But her hand blocked his lips.
"Wh-who said so—!"
To the flushed girl.
"I didn't do anything like that with you today."
Sure, it'd been fun, great food... but she couldn't admit it. Not to him.
"A-and... it wasn't that fun. It was okay, I guess..."
Her voice trailed off, words rambling. Carlyle smirked.
"Liar. It's obvious."
"What lie?!"
"How about this, then?"
Their standoff ended unexpectedly. With Carlyle's trump card.
In other words, a bed battle.
"We'll settle that unfinished rematch from last time."
Bianca knew it; Carlyle did too. Their first bed bout had fizzled out unresolved.
No escape for her. Knowing that, he drove the nail in with a playful grin and one extra jab.
"Or I spill how you secretly got off by yourself."
"Y-you psycho!"
Winning mattered, but she felt wronged. How could he understand why she'd done it? The desperation that made her cave to her own urges!
"It's all your fault...!"
For making her feel this way. Luckily, the rest stayed unsaid.
But her frustrated pout drew a surprisingly serious response from him.
"I'll give you another chance."
"Chance? What chance?"
"To redeem all your behavior so far."
Carlyle grinned.
"Coming to a hotel with me and sneaking a solo session? Impressive, you."
Ignoring his nonsense, Bianca perked up a bit.
A chance to redeem myself?
She'd tried to gloss over it, but yeah—she'd lost that last match. Swept up in unfamiliar pleasure.
And now he was proposing a rematch.
But this time...?
She realized the situation was different now.
Yeah, right...
Having already relieved herself in the bathroom, she should have some resistance to the pleasure, right?
For some reason, a weird confidence surged.
"Fine. You're on."
She accepted—conveniently forgetting she'd never beaten him once, or that her body was still sensitive and horny despite the release.
So maybe the outcome was predictable.
"Haaah... heh!"
Bianca unraveled in under thirty minutes.
"H-hey, Carlyle! W-wait...!"
Gushes of fluid sprayed. Wet, squelching sounds leaked from her pink folds.
"Aah... stop!"
This wasn't how it was supposed to go! Pleasure defied her expectations, impossible to resist.
"You know that, Bianca?"
Carlyle ignored her pleas.
"Your body's so soft. Super horny and sensitive."
Non-sequitur as he toyed with her. Soon, they were both ablaze—natural for youths their age.
From her neck to her ears, hips to navel—no inch of her female form escaped his lips.
Her robe had fallen off the bed; her pale, slender legs trembled desperately.
"You're flooding again today."
Embarrassed, she tried to clamp her thighs, but his firm hands spread them wide once more.
"S-stop...!"
He chuckled low at her clenched slit, her pretty pussy.
"Such a sloppy little thing, right, Bianca?"
"N-nooo..."
"Don't deny it."
She jolted and shrank back as he rubbed her folds.
"Heut—hey...!"
Moaning lewdly, clinging to him, her expression melted. Her slim waist arched, and she came like a pathetic mess.
The real fun hadn't even started, but the room's air was already thick with heat.