Then came the soft click of the hotel room door opening.
Makoto giggled as he turned to look. "Oh, you're right on time." He glanced at the three girls in the doorway, eyes gleaming. "Seize him! And don't let him escape until the show ends."
Tatsuya's head whipped around. His eyes went wide.
Standing in the doorway were three figures. Yuna was in the middle, small and gray-haired in a too-tight band t-shirt, her eyes blazing. She held a baseball bat in her hand. Ayane stood on her right, tall and confident in a ridiculously short skirt, a slow grin spreading across her face. She was holding up her phone. The little red "record" light blinked steadily.
And Mika, on the left, looked serene and calm. She held a small coil of rope, and her smile was terrifying in its sweetness. "Escape?" Mika's voice was soft, almost musical. She stepped into the room. The door closed behind her with a soft click. "Oh, no. He's not going anywhere."
Tatsuya scrambled to his feet. "Who the hell are you?" he snarled. "What the fuck is this?"
Mafuyu-nee just stared, mouth slightly open. She looked from the three girls in the doorway to Makoto's triumphant grin. Then she started to laugh. Loud, unrestrained, joyous laughter that seemed to shake the entire room.
Ayane zoomed in on Tatsuya's terrified, sputtering face. "And this," she said appreciatively, "is the money shot." She turned the camera to Makoto. "Get on it, harem king. Show this guy how you fuck his girlfriend!"
Makoto licked Mafuyu's love juice off her thighs and cunt, still smiling. "Need any rest before we do full penetration, Mafuyu-nee?"
"No, please... keep going, I want it." As Mafuyu answered with a nod, Makoto positioned himself on top of Mafuyu, rubbing his length against her entrance. "How is my cock compared to his?"
Mafuyu gasped sharply as his cock pressed against her. Her eyes, which had been shining with wild joy, went wide with a new kind of thrill. "It's thicker, bigger," she whispered, voice raw. "So much… bigger."
From across the room came a loud thwack as Yuna's baseball bat connected with the back of Tatsuya's knees. He went down with a surprised yelp, crumpling into a heap of silk and rage. Mika was on him in a flash, the rope blurring in her surprisingly strong hands.
"And you," Ayane said lazily, still filming, phone held steady, "are going to watch them with your eyes wide open, mister boyfriend." She looked at him with sparkling eyes. "This is going to get the best fap material of my entire life."
Mafuyu-nee looked up at Makoto. Her eyes shone with something wild and adoring. A slow smile spread across her face. "Do it, fuck me," she whispered, voice breaking with happiness. "Please. Do it now." She wrapped her legs around his waist, heels digging into his lower back, pulling him closer.
As Makoto entered her, a scream was torn from her throat. It was pain and pleasure and freedom all at once. He moved in and out of her, pressing his weight onto her while holding both of her hands. "Damn, you're still so tight in here, Mafuyu." He looked down at her. "I bet his tiny cock never gets far inside, huh?"
Mafuyu-nee threw her head back. A raw, guttural sound tore from her throat, half-sob, half-scream. Her body vibrated with a year's worth of repressed pleasure and pain. "No…" she gasped breathlessly.
"He… he's always… cum so fast… we always use... a... condom..." Her hips began to move with a clumsy, desperate rhythm. She wasn't trying to match him. She was just moving, a frantic dance of overwhelming sensation. Like a starving woman at a feast.
Across the room, Tatsuya was now gagged with one of the hotel's expensive cloth napkins. He was tied to the armchair with intricate knots that Mika had clearly practiced. Yuna stood over him, baseball bat resting on her shoulder, looking bored and contemptuous. Ayane was still filming, steady as a documentarian, capturing something rare.
And on the bed, Mafuyu-nee was coming undone. The years of fear, of shame, of quiet submission were all being fucked out of her. In its place, something new and terrifying and beautiful was being born.
Makoto kept fucking her. He felt his climax approaching. "Come on. He wants a show. Give him a show!" He looked down at her. "Show him how I fuck you to climax, Mafuyu-nee. I bet he was so bad that he could never do that before."
"He's watching…" Mafuyu panted, voice raw and delicious with shame and defiance. "He's… he's watching you… break me…" The thought, which would have terrified her an hour ago, was now intoxicating.
Her hips moved faster, meeting his every thrust. Her inner walls clenched around him with desperate, primal hunger. She was close. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps. Her body went taut like a bowstring.
Then, with a final, desperate cry that was both a name and a prayer, she let go.
"I... I'm cumming! Makoto!" she screamed, voice raw and unholy. Her orgasm ripped through her, so intense it triggered his own. He roared, a deep, guttural sound as he flooded her with his seed.
The room was silent for a moment. Just their ragged breathing, and the soft click as Ayane finally stopped recording.
Then came a new sound. The sound that broke the heavy, post-coital silence was soft, deliberate applause.
It was Mika.
She stood by the armchair, a smile on her face, looking down at the broken man tied to the chair. "Bravo," she said, her voice soft and musical. "That was a nice performance, Mafuyu." She turned her gaze to the bed, eyes sweeping over the mess of sated bodies. "I think your boyfriend wants an encore."
Makoto sighed, low and exhausted from where he was collapsed on top of Mafuyu. "Yeah, I can keep going," he said, voice a little hoarse. He kissed Mafuyu's sweat-damp hair, caressing her back. "Why don't you show him your full cunt, Mafuyu-nee? He won't get any of that again after tonight."
The suggestion, so lewd and possessive and cruel, hit Mafuyu-nee like a physical blow. A deep blush exploded across her face. She opened her mouth to protest, to say something, anything, but no words came out. Instead, a slow, wicked grin spread across her face.
She pushed herself up with a new confidence in her movements. Her body was a mess of love bites, flushed skin and Makoto's seed, which was now trickling down her inner thigh, like a thick, white, undeniable brand. She crawled to the edge of the bed, slow and deliberate, almost predatory.
She didn't say a word, just knelt there and spread her legs, presenting the raw evidence of her betrayal directly to her one-man audience. Tatsuya's eyes went wide. A strangled, pathetic gurgle tore from his throat. He struggled against his bonds, a furious, futile dance of desperation.
Yuna just snorted. She walked over, baseball bat held loosely in one hand. With the other, she reached out and pulled the gag from his mouth. "Is there something you want to say?" she asked, voice low and dangerous.
"You… you fucking whore!" Tatsuya screamed, voice raw and unholy. "You'll pay for this! All of you! I'll..."
He was cut off by a sharp, casual slap from Yuna. "Wrong answer," she said, bored. She put the gag back in, a little tighter this time.
Ayane zoomed in on Tatsuya's tear-streaked, rage-filled face. "I never imagined," she said, "that I could film an NTR in real life."
Makoto gently pushed Mafuyu to lie on her belly, then entered her from behind. "You know, Mafuyu-nee, I have been eyeing your thick ass for a long time." He grabbed her ass and started thrusting. "I have been imagining making this mine, you know?"
A sharp, strangled cry tore from Mafuyu-nee's throat as he entered her again. Raw, almost feral with surprise and deep pleasure. Her ass, which had been a source of shame and self-consciousness, was now a source of new power.
Her hips began to move, slow and deliberate, meeting his every thrust. She was not just taking him anymore. She was fucking him back.
From across the room, Tatsuya was a crumpled, defeated heap in the chair. His struggles had long since ceased. He just stared, eyes wide and vacant, a single tear rolling down his cheek.
Yuna was scrolling through his phone, a slow grin on her face. "Oh, look," she said, voice a dangerous purr. "He has a mother. And a sister. I wonder if they'd like to see this video."
Ayane was still filming, steady as a documentarian, capturing the final, devastating moments of a man's life. And Mika just watched them both, her calm smile never leaving her face.
"Beautiful," she whispered softly. "Absolutely beautiful." She looked at the broken man in the chair. "And now, he should have known his place."
Makoto pulled Mafuyu-nee's hair back until their eyes met, trying not to hurt her as his thrusting quickened. "Is there anything you want to say to your boyfriend now, Mafuyu? Or should we call him Mr. Ex now?"
The pull on her hair was a sharp jolt of electrifying pleasure. Raw, brutal, possessive. It seemed to short-circuit her entire nervous system. Her head snapped back. Her eyes, which had been glazed over with overwhelming pleasure, snapped into sharp focus. She looked at the broken man in the chair.
Then she smiled.
"Thank you," she whispered, voice raw and broken. "For everything." Her hips, which had been moving fast, now became a slow, deliberate grind. She was fucking Makoto and performing for Tatsuya. Showing Tatsuya everything he had, everything he had taken for granted, and everything he was about to lose.
"And goodbye," she whispered. And as Makoto roared, flooding her for the second time, she threw her head back and laughed. Loud, unrestrained, joyous laughter that was both a declaration of war and a cry of victory.
They took a short break. He put Mafuyu's clothes back on. "That should be a good birthday present for him, at least." He grasped Mafuyu's hand. "Anything else you want to say before we go?"
The question hung in the air. Mafuyu-nee, now dressed in her simple, almost frumpy clothes, looked at the broken man in the chair. The wild creature of a moment ago was gone, replaced by a woman who was composed and frighteningly calm.
She walked over to Tatsuya, her movements slow and deliberate.
She didn't say a word. She just reached into her purse and pulled out a small object. A slick vibrator, the one they had seen her trying back at the sex shop.
She clicked it on, filled the room with a low, insistent, humiliating buzz. Then she removed the gag and shoved it into his mouth.
"Happy birthday, darling," she whispered softly. She looked at the three girls standing by the door. Then she turned, her hand finding Makoto's, and she never looked back.