"You don't look like someone who licks lollipops for a living," the manager said, his dark eyes tracing the curve of April's waist where her snug candy-striped apron tied just above her hips.
April twirled a lock of hair around her finger, letting the cheap fluorescent lights catch the gloss of her lipstick. "Sweet tooth runs in the family," she lied, shifting her weight to make the pleated skirt swish against her thighs. "And I *adore* kids. Their... enthusiasm."
The manager's nostrils flared as he leaned across the counter, the scent of burnt sugar and something chemical clinging to his black turtleneck. "Midnight shifts only. Stockroom's on the third floor—don't go sniffing where you don't belong."
Her pulse thrummed when his calloused thumb grazed her wrist while handing back the fake resume. The application line behind her was eight deep with bored college girls, but his grip lingered just a beat too long.
Upstairs, between racks of shrink-wrapped gummies, she'd already spotted the first camera—its red light blinking in time with the hum of industrial freezers.
"Is there a secret menu?" she asked, pressing her palms flat against the glass counter so her cleavage caught the light just right. The manager's tongue darted out to wet his lips. "Or maybe... something extra sweet for employees?"
His chuckle vibrated through the floorboards as he stepped closer. "Depends how motivated you are." The stench of nicotine and spearmint gum clung to his breath when he leaned in. "Inventory's tricky. Sometimes boxes..." His hand grazed her hip, fingers splaying possessive. "...disappear."
April's spine locked. His palm cracked against her ass—sharp enough to sting through the thin polyester skirt. "Midnight sharp," he murmured, fingers lingering where the welt would bloom. "Wear the striped thigh-highs. They suit your... qualifications."
Her knuckles whitened around the strap of her purse. "Can't wait," she lied through teeth that ached from clenching.
(Some time later.)
The subway ride home was a blur of neon and clenched thighs, heat pulsing where his fingerprints lingered.
Back in her apartment, April peeled off the skirt slowly—the fabric sticking to the welt—and hissed as the shower's first jet of water hit the mark. Steam fogged the mirror, but not enough to hide the flush creeping up her ribs.
(Hours later.)
Midnight smelled like burnt caramel and ammonia when she pushed through the stockroom door. The blonde was already there, perched on a crate of bubblegum jars, her E-cups straining against a candy-striped halter top. "New girl," she chirped, popping a lollipop between glossed lips. "Boss likes you… rough."
The goth materialized from the shadows next, black lipstick smudged. "Dumb question," she muttered, adjusting her D-cups in a corset that looked two sizes too small. "But did he..."
The redhead's arrival cut her off, strawberry curls bouncing with every nervous shuffle. Her F-cups threatened to spill from the apron's straining neckline. "S-stock takes forever," she stammered, avoiding April's eyes. "Especially when… when he checks it."
April forced a sugar-coated smile, counting heartbeats in her throat. "April O'Neil." The name tasted like stale bubblegum in her mouth. "And you are...?"
"Lucy," the blonde chirped, sucking her lollipop with a wet pop.
The goth just grunted, "'m Raven."
When April's gaze lingered, the redhead whispered, "Emily."
The freezer's hum filled the silence. April leaned against a crate, letting the chill seep through her thigh-highs. "So how'd you ladies end up in…" She gestured at the neon-lit clutter. "...this sweet setup?"
Lucy giggled, twisting a lock of bleached hair around one finger. "Daddy cut me off after the third DUI."
Raven's corset creaked as she folded her arms. "Parole officer said 'get a job or get fucked.' Guess which happened first."
Emily's blush spread down her freckled chest. "Student loans."
April exhaled through her nose—burnt sugar and bleach, something acrid underneath. "Funny," she said, fingers tightening around the clipboard she'd swiped from the office, "because I don't think any of you know what's really in those gummy bears."
Lucy's lollipop froze mid-rotation. Raven's black-lined eyes narrowed to slits.
"I'm actually—" April started, but Emily gasped first: "Channel Six. You're April O'Neil, the one who did that exposé on the dockyard fires." The redhead's voice cracked like spun sugar.
Raven's corset groaned as she straightened. "Shit. The hot news bitch."
April's pulse kicked against her ribs. "Listen..."
"The fuck you doing here, Lois Lane?" Lucy spat the lollipop into her palm, cherry-red gloss smearing like a wound.
The freezer light flickered. April stepped forward, the cold seeping through her thigh-highs into the still-tender skin beneath. "Because your boss isn't just skimming inventory. He's lacing candy with something called mutagen." The words tasted metallic. "Ever wonder why the people who shop here come back... different?"
Lucy's fingers trembled. The lollipop slipped—clattering onto the concrete floor—its cherry-red sheen splitting open to reveal a viscous, amber core. "Oh god..." Her breath hitched, pupils dilating. "I... I ate three of those this shift..."
April lunged, catching Lucy's wrists as her knees buckled. The blonde's pulse rabbit-kicked against her palms. "Hey. *Hey.* You're okay." She hauled Lucy against her, the girl's breasts pressing damply into April's collarbone.
Raven's shadow loomed, black nails digging into her corset's boning. "How the fuck can you be sure?"
April exhaled, her lips brushing Lucy's sweat-damp temple. "Because if it had worked?" She held up Lucy's wrist—still smooth, still human—and thumbed the frantic vein. "We'd be scrubbing green scales off the stockroom floor by now." April looks between the three teen girls. "Would you girls help me look around the two shop floors?" April waits for each of them to answer her one at a time if they will. She is not going to force them to help.
"Sure," Lucy said, popping another lollipop—yellow this time—into her mouth with trembling fingers. "Better than waiting to turn into some fucking lizard."
Raven rolled her eyes, her corset creaking as she adjusted her D-cups. "Yeah, whatever. Not like I got anything better to do."
Emily, still blushing furiously, nodded so hard her strawberry curls bounced. "O-okay. I'll help."
April led them through the neon-lit aisles, her thigh-highs whispering against each other with every step. The shop was eerily quiet save for the hum of the freezers and the occasional crinkle of wrappers as they inspected the shelves. Lucy's lollipop clicked against her teeth, Raven's boots scuffed the linoleum, and Emily's nervous breaths were loud in the stillness.
After a few minutes of searching, Emily suddenly stopped in front of a display of gummy worms. "Uh, guys?" she said, pointing. "Isn't it kinda weird how all the green candy is separate? Like, over here?" She gestured to a lone shelf where green lollipops, gummy frogs, and apple-flavored belts sat isolated from the rest.
April froze, her pulse kicking against her ribs. The realization hit her like a slap—mutagen was green. Of course it was. The Foot Clan wasn't just hiding it in candy; they were hiding it in plain sight, camouflaged by color. "Holy shit," she whispered. "Mutagen is green in color. Perfect for dipping green candy in it. Nobody would notice before it was to late."
Lucy's lollipop fell from her lips with a wet plop. "Oh my god. We've been handing that shit out to kids."
Raven's black-lined eyes widened. "Fuck. I almost ate a green gummy bear yesterday."
Emily clutched her apron, her knuckles whitening. "I... I didn't. I don't like green apple flavor."
April's throat tightened. "Thank god for picky eaters." She reached out, squeezing Emily's shoulder—warm, solid, still human. For now.
Lucy's heel tapped against the linoleum, sharp little clicks like Morse code. "Okay, but where's the *actual* lab? You think they're cooking this shit here?"
April's gaze flicked to the fluorescent-lit ceiling—the faintest tremor in the bulbs when the industrial freezers cycled on. "There *has* to be a hidden lab attached to this place." Her fingers traced the seam where wall met floor, sticky with syrup residue. "Either upstairs in the third-floor warehouse space..." The words tasted like burnt sugar. "...or more likely, a basement level. Something they wouldn't list on blueprints."
Raven's corset creaked as she folded her arms. "You ever done this shit before? Breaking into secret ninja labs?"
April's laugh was thin, brittle. "First time for everything." The welt on her ass throbbed in time with her pulse. "This could get dangerous fast. I won't blame you if you bail." She glanced at each of them—Lucy's gloss smeared from chewing her lip, Raven's black-lined eyes unreadable, Emily's freckles stark against her pallor. "I'm checking the third floor first. You in?"
Lucy popped the yellow lollipop from her mouth with a wet sound. "Try and stop me."
Raven rolled her eyes, but her fingers flexed like she was already imagining wrapping them around someone's throat. "Whatever. Lead the way, Nancy Drew."
Emily's breath hitched. "I... I can't let you go alone." Her fingers brushed April's wrist—just a flutter, but the contact sent a jolt through her.
April exhaled through her nose—burnt sugar, bleach, and beneath it, something coppery. Fear, maybe. Or anticipation. "Keep close." Her thigh-highs whispered as she moved toward the stairwell, the others' footsteps syncopated behind her—Lucy's staccato clicks, Raven's deliberate drag, Emily's nervous shuffles. The metal door groaned when she pushed it open, revealing a narrow staircase swallowed by shadows. The air smelled like moldering cardboard and something sharper—chemical, acrid.
Lucy gagged. "Jesus. Smells like my ex's gym bag."
Raven's nose wrinkled. "Mutagen or just shitty plumbing?"
April's fingers tightened on the railing. Cold metal bit into her palm. "Only one way to find out." The steps creaked underfoot, each one a potential tripwire. Halfway up, her heel caught—Emily's hand shot out, steadying her with a gasp. The warmth of her palm seeped through April's sleeve, lingering even after she let go.
Above them, the third-floor door loomed—unmarked, dented, a single red light blinking beside the handle. April's pulse hammered in her throat. "Okay," she murmured, her breath stirring the fine hairs at Emily's temple. "This is it."
The warehouse stretched beyond the door—rows of shelving units stacked with unmarked boxes, the reek of synthetic sugar so thick it stung their eyes. Lucy gagged. "Fuck. It's like a Willy Wonka factory sponsored by Satan."
Meanwhile, downstairs, Aimu's boots squeaked against the linoleum as she peered over the deserted counter. "Hellooo~?" Her voice echoed off the neon-lit aisles—no shuffling footsteps, no cheerful greeting. Just the hum of refrigeration units and the faintest rustle of wrappers in the AC. She pouted, hands settling on her hips, crossbow shifting against her back. "Who steals employees but leaves the chocolate pies?"
Upstairs, April's fingers brushed against peeling tape beneath a crate labeled "Licorice Twists"—the plastic cold, slick with condensation. "Got something." She held up the key card, its magnetic strip glinting under flickering fluorescents. Raven snatched it, her black nails scraping the surface. "Employee lounge," she muttered, squinting at the faded print. "Basement access needs fucking key cards."
Lucy sucked her lollipop hard enough to crack the candy shell. "So we're checking the break room first, right?" Her heel tapped a staccato rhythm against the concrete floor. "Bet that's where they stashed the good shit."
Emily's breath hitched as April's thigh brushed hers in the cramped aisle—warmth spreading through the thin fabric of her apron despite the freezer's chill. "I... if we split up," she stammered, "we could cover more ground..." Her fingers twisted in the hem of her skirt, knuckles brushing April's hipbone.
Back on the second floor, Aimu's crossbow clanked against a shelf as she stretched to reach a jar of star-shaped gummies. The glass was fogged, sticky—something dark swirled in the syrup between the candies. She frowned, tilting the jar. "Huh. Weird flavoring or..." Her nose wrinkled at the chemical tang beneath the sugar. "Maybe expired?" She unscrewed the lid anyway.
Meanwhile, the employee lounge door hissed shut behind April and the girls, sealing them in fluorescent-lit sterility—microwave beige and a coffee pot crusted with ancient rings. Lucy popped the last of her lollipop with an audible crunch. "Break rooms are supposed to have, like, stale donuts and passive-aggressive notes. Not—" She nudged a filing cabinet with her toe; it screeched across the linoleum to reveal a seam in the floor. "—secret fucking trapdoors."
April's pulse skipped. The hidden door wasn't even locked—just a pressure latch disguised as a floor tile. Her fingers trembled against the cool metal edge. "Stay close," she whispered, her thigh-highs whispering as she crouched. The air rushing up from the darkness smelled like industrial cleaner and something vegetal, rotting. Raven's corset creaked as she leaned over April's shoulder. "Fuck me. It's like someone bottled swamp farts."
Upstairs, Aimu's boot heels drummed against the countertop, her crossbow's weight digging into her spine. The star-shaped gummy between her fingers glistened unnaturally—its surface too slick, too iridescent. "Hellooo~?" she called again, popping the candy into her mouth. The taste exploded—chemical sweetness followed by a creeping numbness. Her tongue pressed against her teeth, testing. "Eugh. Tastes like bad decisions." She spits it out in a trash can.
April's breath hitched as the hidden door swung fully open, revealing a narrow staircase swallowed by darkness. Lucy's manicured nails dug into April's forearm. "No fucking way," she hissed, her lollipop stick trembling between her teeth.
"That's not OSHA-approved." Emily's whimper was almost lost beneath the hum of unseen machinery below—a rhythmic throb that vibrated through April's soles.
Raven snorted, her corset's boning pressing into April's spine. "What tipped you off? The lack of handrails or..." The stairwell lights flickered on with a buzz, illuminating a chrome-lined laboratory below. Raven's voice died. "...the fucking kid in the plexiglass cage."
The little girl couldn't have been older than ten, her frilly yellow dress dwarfed by the containment unit around her. A gaunt man in a stained lab coat held a green-dripping candy to her trembling lips. "Consumption accelerates mutation," he droned to a clipboard, nudging the candy against her teeth. "Phase three trials require..."
April's stomach lurched as the child's first whimper dissolved into a wet, guttural gasp. Her spine arched violently—tendons snapping like over-tuned strings.
"Holy shit..." Lucy's lollipop clattered down the stairs as the girl's fingers elongated. Fabric ripped at her shoulders, her once-tiny frame surging upward as her hips flared obscenely—the dress seams bursting apart to reveal skin stretching taut over suddenly-voluptuous curves. The scientist adjusted his glasses, unfazed as her collarbones cracked outward to accommodate swelling G-cup breasts that heaved with each ragged breath.
"Terminate subject post-transformation," he muttered, reaching for a syringe. The girl—now towering at eight feet—slammed her newly muscular thigh against the glass, a web of fractures blooming outward. Emily's scream tangled with the scientist's shout as April yanked them backward—just as the containment unit shattered in a storm of plexiglass shards.
Lucy staggered, coughing up bile. "*Fucking christ*, her *eyes*..." The mutated girl's pupils had split vertically, her once-soft features sharpening into something feline as jagged incisors punched through her gums. The scientist scrambled under a table, his lab coat tearing on debris.
Raven's boot connected with his ribs. "What the *fuck* did you *do* to her?" she snarled, corset straining.
A wet *rip* silenced them—the girl's scalp parted as velvety black ears unfurled from her matted hair, twitching at the drip of coolant from ruptured pipes. April's thighs clenched at the girl's guttural moan—her spine arching again, a thick tail bursting from the ruins of her dress just above an ass that had swelled to jiggling proportions. "*Me...ow?*" The word bubbled from her lips before she collapsed, her massive chest heaving against the concrete.
Lucy gagged against April's shoulder. "Oh god, she's... she's still *in there*, isn't she?"
The lab coat creaked as the scientist scrabbled backward, syringe glinting. Raven's boot pinned his wrist with a *crack*. "Talk. Fast."
Footsteps pounded upstairs—black-clad shadows materializing between shelves, their faces hidden behind black masks. April shoved Emily behind her as the first Foot ninja flipped over a pallet of sugar sacks, his sickle glinting. "*Shit*... girls, *move!*"
A crossbow bolt *thwipped* past April's ear, embedding itself in the lead ninja's thigh with a wet *thunk*. Aimu's voice sang from the stairwell, sugary as poisoned candy: "*Oopsies~!* Did I interrupt murder time?" She skipped into the flickering light, her cape flaring, crossbow reloading with a *click-whirr*.
The Foot ninja hissed through their masks—steel flashed, but Aimu spun, her pleated skirt flaring to reveal garter straps snapping against her thighs as she fired. Bolts punched through torsos, pinning two ninjas to a support beam like grotesque butterflies. April's breath caught at the wet *slap* of a third bolt skewering a ninja's palm to his own forehead.
Aimu giggled, licking syrup from her fingers. "*Mmm~* Cherry flavor." Her caramel eyes locked onto the trembling scientist. "*You* look like someone who knows where the *good* candy's hidden." The crossbow's crank *clicked* as she leveled it at his crotch. "*Tell me~*"
Then she froze—her pupils dilating—as she took in the lab: the mutant catgirl's tail flicking between unconscious twitches, the girls' shredded uniforms clinging to sweat-slick skin. But when her gaze landed on April—those legs in striped thigh-highs, that apron barely containing her chest—her breath hitched. "*April O'Neil?!*" Aimu's knees wobbled. "*The* April O'Neil? From *Channel Six?!*" Her crossbow slipped—a bolt ricocheted off a freezer door as she clasped her hands to her flushed cheeks. "Ohmygodohmygod *I watch you every morning while eating marshmallow cereal!*"
The ninja's sickle gleamed—an inch from Aimu's jugular—before April tackled her. They crashed into a pallet of powdered sugar, Aimu's witch hat flying as April's thighs bracketed her hips. "Stay *down*, kid!" April hissed, her D-cups heaving against Aimu's face.
The scent of burnt caramel and April's sweat filled Aimu's nose—her moan was muffled by cleavage. "*Mmmph!* So *soft...*"
April barely had time to gasp before the girl's lips locked onto hers—cherry-flavored tongue diving between her teeth, Aimu's fingers tangling in her hair with surprising strength.
Lucy's lollipop hit the floor with a wet crack. "*What the...?*"
Aimu pulled back just long enough to pant against April's mouth: "*Fanfiction* never mentioned your lips taste like peppermint!" Then she was gone—a blur of indigo pleats—her knee smashing upward into a ninja's groin with a sickening squelch. Raven's corset creaked as she gaped at the carnage—Aimu's petite frame moving like liquid death, her bare hands snapping wristbones with crisp pops.
Emily whimpered when Aimu pirouetted—her bootheel crushing a ninja's windpipe mid-somersault—only to land straddling April's lap again, panting. "*Hah...* Did I make you *tingle*?" Her thumb wiped April's smeared lipstick, then sucked it clean with a wet sound. "*Mmm~* Better than candy."
Before April could push her off, Aimu's tongue plunged back into her mouth—cherry and iron now—her big C-cups squishing against April's chest hard enough to make their nipples catch friction through damp fabric.
Lucy's lollipop crunched underfoot as Raven snarled, "*Focus*, you horny gremlin!"
Aimu whined against April's lips—high-pitched, needy—when the remaining Foot ninjas dropped from ceiling ducts in a rustle of black cloth. Her crossbow lay ten feet away, skewering a ninja's groin to the floor. "*Tch.* Party *poopers.*" One last nip to April's lower lip, then she rolled off—her pleated skirt flipping up to flash garters snapping taut—just as twin sickles whizzed past where her head had been.
The ninja's mask tore on Aimu's teeth as she somersaulted over him, her bare thighs clamping his throat mid-air. His choked gurgle harmonized with the wet *pop* of his shoulder dislocating when she wrenched his arm backward—using the momentum to fling herself toward her weapon. Her fingers brushed the crossbow's grip... then froze. "*Uh-oh.*"
A throwing star quivered in the floor between her spread legs, slicing her tights open to reveal caramel skin pebbling with sweat. The last nine Foot ninjas fanned out—sickles gleaming—as their leader's rasp echoed: "*Die.*"
April's thigh-highs ripped at the seams when she lunged—Emily's scream ringing in her ears—just as Aimu's crossbow *click-whirred* back into her grasp. "*Silly boys~*" Her giggle was saccharine, lethal. "*I only* die *for her.*" The reloaded bolt *thwipped* straight through the leader's mask—pinning his tongue to his teeth with a wet *thunk*.
The mutant catgirl's tail lashed weakly—her claws scrabbling against concrete—as Lucy vaulted a toppled shelf, snatching up a shattered beaker. "*Hey,* dogfood-breath!" The glass shard *thunked* into a ninja's thigh, syrup-thick blood splattering Raven's corset when she stomped his knee backward with a *crunch*. Emily's trembling fingers found April's wrist—warm, sticky—just as Aimu's next bolt punched through two ninjas at once, their collapsing bodies slamming together with a meaty *slap*.
"*Whoa!* Did you see that? *Two for one special!*" Aimu giggled, spinning on her bootheel to survey the carnage—ninjas pinned like grotesque butterflies, syrup and blood pooling between shattered candy jars. Her witch hat sat askew, one caramel-colored eye peeking from beneath messy bangs as she did a little twirl, her pleated skirt flaring. "*Ta-daa~!* All cleaned up!"
April's thighs pressed together—still tingling from Aimu's weight—as the girl bounded over, her big C-cups bouncing with every skip. Aimu's fingers brushed April's collarbone, warm and sticky with cherry syrup. "*Mmm~* You taste like panic sweat and *really* expensive perfume," she murmured, licking her lips.
Raven's corset *creaked* as she folded her arms, black-lined eyes narrowing. "*The fuck* are you, Shortstack? Some kinda sugar-high vigilante?"
Aimu's grin widened, her blue hair clip glinting as she tossed her curls. "*Aimu!* Member of the Zodiac Star Committee, fallen angel in a past life, *and*..." She winked at April, fingers tracing the journalist's hipbone through the torn apron. "*...future wife of April O'Neil.*" Her thumb hooked into April's waistband, pulling her close enough to feel the girl's heartbeat—wild and rabbit-quick—against her own. "*Soooo~* How *you* doing, gorgeous?"
Lucy choked on her own spit, lollipop stick snapping between her teeth. "*Excuse* the fuck outta..."
Aimu spun away, her bolero flaring as she pirouetted toward Raven, poking the goth's corset laces. "*You're* all tense." Her fingers danced up Raven's ribs—black nails catching on boning—before tweaking a nipple through the strained fabric. "*Tsk.* Needs more *joy~*" Raven's indignant squawk was drowned out by Emily's hiccuping giggle as Aimu squeezed her F-cups together, nuzzling the freckled cleavage. "*Mmm~* And *you're* just *adorable.* Like a strawberry-flavored stress ball."
April's thighs clenched—still damp from their tumble—as Aimu's teeth grazed her earlobe. "*Especially* you," the girl purred, her breath hot and cherry-sweet. "*So* brave. *So* hot. *So* gonna marry me." Her knee slid between April's legs, the pleated skirt riding up to reveal garters digging into plush thighs. "*After* we raid their secret candy stash."
Lucy's lollipop hit the floor with a wet crack. "*Wait*, you're just...*what the fuck*..."
"*Upstairs is super safe now~!*" Aimu sing-songed, already dragging April by the apron ties knotted between her breasts—the fabric straining audibly as April's D-cups jiggled with each stumbling step backward. "*Go eat candy or whatever!*"
April's thighs slapped together—still slick from their tussle—as she dug her heels into the sticky linoleum. "*Aimu... wait... Jesus Christ, slow down...*" Her protest choked off when the girl's fingers tightened, the sudden pressure on her sternum making her nipples pinch against the damp cotton of her bra. "*Fuck!* Not the...*ah!*... not the *collarbone*...*"
Raven's boots scuffed concrete as she shouldered past the wreckage toward a blinking monitor bank. The security feed flickered—grainy footage of Aimu kicking open a storage closet, April's striped thigh-highs flashing as she was spun face-first against a shelf of syrup jugs. "*Well.* Looks like the gremlin *really* likes her marshmallow cereal," Raven drawled, sinking into the swivel chair with a creak of corset boning.
Emily's breath hitched—warm against Lucy's shoulder—as the camera zoomed in on Aimu's teeth sinking into April's neck, the journalist's back arching violently when small hands yanked her apron strings loose. "*D...d... do we...watch?*" Emily's whisper trembled like her fingers clutched in Lucy's sleeve. Lucy's tongue darted out—cherry gloss smearing—just as Raven hit *record* with a smirk.
"*Ohhh no no no...*" April's palm slapped against plexiglass as Aimu's knee wedged between her thighs, the pleated skirt riding up to reveal the damp press of cotton against bare skin. The security camera caught the exact moment April's hips stuttered—her breath fogging the screen—when Aimu's mouth closed over her left nipple through the bunched fabric. "*Fuck!* You're just a teen...*"
"*Mmm~* And you're *twenty-eight* and *soaking*," Aimu purred, her free hand skating up the inside of April's thigh—stockings ripping at the garter snaps. The audio feed crackled with April's gasp, the wet *shlick* of fingers sliding home making Lucy's lollipop drop again.
Emily whimpered—knees knocking—as Raven adjusted the contrast. "*Focus, Shortstack. You're missing the good part.*" The camera shuddered when Aimu's hips snapped forward, April's head whipping back against the shelf with a *thunk* that sent syrup bottles trembling.
"*Goddammit...!*" April's thighs quivered—clamping around Aimu's waist—as the girl's crossbow harness dug into her hips. "*I... I can't... oh fuck...*" Her nails scraped plexiglass, streaking it with condensation and cherry gloss when Aimu's tongue plunged into her mouth again.
Raven's boot tapped the floor in time with April's stuttered moans—each one sharper than the last—until the syrup jugs rattled off the shelf in a cacophony of plastic and sticky splatter.
Emily covered her eyes—but not before the camera zoomed in on April's back arching off the wall, her mouth open in a silent scream as Aimu's teeth sank into her shoulder.
"*Well.*" Lucy's lollipop rolled under the desk, forgotten. "*That's...*"
Aimu giggled against April's throat, her fingers twisting deeper—wet sounds echoing through the security feed's tinny speakers. "*Mmm~ You taste even better than marshmallow cereal.*" Her left hand slid down April's stomach, past the bunched apron, and hooked into the waistband of her panties. "*Let's see if you sound as sweet as you taste~?*"
April gasped—her back arching off the syrup-smeared shelf—when Aimu's index finger pressed inside without warning. "*Jesus!* You're...*ah!*...*fuck*, you can't just...*oh fuck...*" Her protest dissolved into a whine as the girl's middle finger joined, curling upward to stroke a spot that made April's thighs shake. "*Aimu! I'm serious, stop...nngh!...stop that, you little...*"
"*Shhh~*" Aimu's tongue licked a stripe up April's neck, her breath hot and sticky-sweet. "*You don't *want* me to stop.*" Her thumb circled April's clit, slow and teasing, while her fingers pumped faster—the wet *shlick* of each thrust syncing with April's stuttering moans. "*See? Your pussy's *begging* me to keep going.*" She crooked her fingers just right, and April's knees buckled—her hands scrabbling for purchase on the shelf behind her.
"*Fuck!*" April's head thunked back against the plexiglass, as Aimu added a third finger—stretching her tight pussy with a burn that tipped into pleasure. "*I... I can't... oh god...*" Her orgasm hit like a freight train, her walls clamping down around Aimu's fingers as her hips jerked forward uncontrollably. "*Aimu!*" The name tore from her throat raw and broken, her thighs trembling as the girl's fingers milked her through it—each pulse of her cunt coaxing out another ragged moan.
Aimu's grin was pure sin as she pulled her fingers free, glistening in the flickering fluorescent light. "*Mmm~* Toldja you'd taste sweet.*" She sucked her fingers clean with a loud, obscene pop—April's juices mixing with cherry syrup on her tongue. "*Now...*" Her caramel eyes darkened, pupils blown wide with want. "*...wanna see how many times I can make you cum before the Foot Clan shows up again?*"
April's breath hitched—her bare thighs still trembling—as Aimu's tiny hands tugged at her candy-striped apron. The fabric tore at the seams, buttons pinging off the concrete like gunshots as April's D-cups spilled free. "*F...fuck... Aimu!*" Her nipples pebbled instantly in the freezer's chill, the sudden exposure making her gasp. Aimu just giggled, tossing the ruined apron over her shoulder like a trophy.
"*Shhh~*" Aimu pressed onto her tiptoes, her petite frame straining as she captured April's lips in a searing kiss. Their teeth clacked—April's gasp muffled by the girl's tongue plunging in deep—cherry and salt and something uniquely *April* flooding Aimu's senses. For a full minute, they stayed like that—Aimu's fingers tangled in April's hair, April's nails digging half-moons into Aimu's shoulders—until Aimu broke the kiss with a wet *pop*.
"*God,* you're *perfect,*" Aimu breathed—then dove face-first between April's heaving breasts, her nose nuzzling the sweat-slick valley as her lips latched onto one peaked nipple. April's back arched off the shelf with a whine, her fingers fumbling to cradle Aimu's head closer as the girl's tongue swirled—hot and insistent—around the stiffened bud.
"*A...Aimu... oh Christ...!*" April's hips jerked, her naked thighs clamping around nothing as Aimu's free hand slid between them—fingers slick with April's own arousal, circling her clit with teasing precision. The dual assault made her vision whiten at the edges, her breath coming in ragged pants that fogged the plexiglass behind her. "*I... I can't... fuck, I'm gonna...!*"
"*Shhh~*" Aimu giggled against her damp skin, her lips peeling off April's nipple with a wet *pop*. "*No touching here,*" she scolded playfully, removing her fingers from April's throbbing clit—watching with delight as April whined at the sudden loss. "*Just these~.*" Her tongue flicked April's other nipple—hard, fast—before sealing her lips around it, sucking hard enough to make April's knees buckle.
"*Fuck! You're evil!*" April gasped, her back arching sharply as Aimu's teeth grazed the sensitive peak—the sharp sting melting instantly into pleasure that coiled tight in her belly. The girl's hands now roamed deliberately *away* from her pussy, one sliding up to cradle the weight of April's left breast while the other traced idle circles around her hipbone—maddeningly close to where she needed it most.
"*Mmm~ You* taste *evil,*" Aimu murmured against her skin, her breath hot as she switched breasts—her tongue swirling slow, purposeful circles that had April's thighs trembling. "*And you sound* even *better.*" The tip of her tongue flicked over April's nipple—once, twice—before she sucked it deep into her mouth, humming when April's hips jerked forward instinctively. "*See? Your tits are* way *more fun.*"
April's fingers tangled in Aimu's curls—tight, desperate—as the girl's lips sealed tighter, sucking with rhythmic pressure that sent jolts straight to her empty, aching pussy. "*God... fuck... just like that...*" She could feel her own wetness dripping down her thighs, her body clenching around nothing as Aimu worked her nipple with relentless focus—each suck pulling another ragged moan from her throat.
"*Toldja,*" Aimu whispered triumphantly—her lips glistening, pupils blown wide—as April's thighs began to shake in earnest. "*Breastgasms are* totally *a thing.*" She dragged her tongue up the slope of April's breast, catching a bead of sweat before sealing her lips around the stiff peak again—*suck, flick, bite*—just hard enough to tip April over the edge with a shattered cry.
April's vision whited out—her hips bucking against empty air—as the pleasure crested without a single touch between her legs. Her fingers yanked Aimu's hair hard enough to make the girl moan against her skin, but Aimu only sucked harder, drinking in April's trembling climax like it was the sweetest syrup in the shop.
"*Mmm~* See?" Aimu pulled back just enough to whisper against April's damp collarbone, her breath hot where April's pulse still fluttered. "*I told you...*" She flicked her tongue over the swollen nipple again, grinning at April's full-body shudder. "*...breastgasms are* definitely *a thing.*"
April's knees gave out completely—her back sliding down the shelf with a wet squeak—but Aimu caught her by the hips, guiding her down until April's ass hit the sticky floor. Before April could even catch her breath, Aimu was sinking to her knees between April's spread thighs, her caramel eyes glinting with mischief as she licked her lips. "*Now let's see if pussy-gasms are* also *a thing~?*"
April barely had time to gasp before Aimu's mouth was on her—tongue plunging deep into her soaked pussy without warning. The girl's nose pressed against April's clit as she fucked her with her tongue, the wet, sloppy sounds echoing off the concrete walls. April's hands flew to Aimu's head, her fingers tangling in brown curls as she arched off the floor with a broken moan. "*Fuck! Aimu...!*"
"*Mmm~* Tastes even better than I imagined," Aimu murmured against April's dripping folds, her lips glistening with April's arousal. She dragged her tongue up through April's slick in one long, filthy stroke before swirling it around her clit—slow at first, then faster, relentless. April's thighs trembled, her hips jerking uncontrollably as Aimu's tongue worked her over with shameless precision.
"*God...! You're...!*" April's words dissolved into a high, desperate whine as Aimu's fingers joined the fray—two slipping inside her with no resistance, curling upward to stroke that perfect spot while her tongue kept circling April's clit. The dual sensation was too much, too fast—April's back bowing off the floor as her orgasm ripped through her with a violence that left her gasping.
Aimu didn't let up—her fingers pumping through April's convulsions, her tongue lapping up every drop of April's release like it was the last candy in the shop. "*Mmm~* Told you," she purred, licking her lips as she finally pulled back to admire her handiwork—April sprawled boneless on the floor, her chest heaving, her thighs still twitching. "*Pussy-gasms are* definitely *a thing.*"
April groaned weakly, her fingers carding through Aimu's hair as the girl shuffled closer on her knees. "*Fuck... Aimu... I can't...*" Her protest choked off when Aimu grabbed her hips with surprising strength—flipping April onto her stomach with a wet slap of skin against linoleum. The sudden shift made April gasp—her nipples scraping against the cold floor as Aimu straddled her thighs, her small hands kneading April's asscheeks with possessive greed.
"*God, this ass,*" Aimu breathed, squeezing hard enough to make April whimper—her fingernails digging into soft flesh as she spread April wide. "*Fucking* perfect.*" The first lick was slow—deliberate—Aimu's tongue tracing the tight furl of April's asshole with teasing precision. April tensed instinctively, but Aimu just giggled—her breath hot against April's most private skin—before diving in again, this time with vicious hunger.
"*Aimu!* Fuck!* Oh god...!*" April's fingers clawed at the sticky floor as Aimu's tongue speared deeper—hot and wet and relentless—pressing into her asshole with a boldness that stole April's breath. The pressure was dizzying—wrong and perfect all at once—her body instinctively clenching around the intrusion even as her hips jerked back for more. Aimu moaned against her skin, her fingers digging bruises into April's hips as she licked deeper—her tongue fucking April's asshole with shameless, sloppy strokes that left April trembling.
"*Mmm~* So *fucking* tight," Aimu murmured—her lips smeared with April's taste—before sealing them over April's hole again, *sucking* this time—the unexpected pull making April cry out, her back arching violently. Aimu laughed against her skin—dark and delighted—as April's thighs quivered, her body torn between pulling away and grinding back onto Aimu's mouth. "*That's it...*" Aimu purred—her teeth grazing April's rim—just sharp enough to make April gasp. "*Let me* ruin *you.*"
April's nails scraped syrup off the floor—her breath hitching every time Aimu's tongue speared in deeper—each thrust wetter, more insistent than the last. The girl's hands—so small but so *strong*—hauled April's hips higher, forcing her ass up into Aimu's hungry mouth. "*Fuck...!*" April choked—her voice breaking—when Aimu's thumb *pressed* against her clit without warning, rubbing rough circles while her tongue *pulsed* inside her ass. The dual assault short-circuited April's brain—her vision fracturing into static—her body clamping down on Aimu's tongue like it was the only thing tethering her to earth.
Aimu moaned—low and throaty—against April's skin, her free hand sliding between April's trembling thighs to *stroke* through the slick mess she'd made. "*Christ, you're* dripping,*" she marveled—her fingers playing in April's folds—before *pushing* two inside without warning, *twisting* them upward just as her tongue *curled* in April's ass. April screamed—her voice raw—her body seizing as pleasure *detonated* in her core—so intense it *hurt.* Aimu rode her through it—her fingers *pumping*, her tongue *lapping*—until April collapsed onto the sticky floor, her limbs loose and twitching.
Aimu pulled back just enough to lick her lips—her chin glistening—her caramel eyes blown black with lust. "*Now...*" she whispered—her fingers still buried in April's pussy—her thumb pressing *hard* against April's swollen clit. "*...wanna see how many* holes *I can wreck before sunrise?*" April whimpered—her body still quaking—as Aimu's teeth scraped her thigh. "*Because,*" Aimu breathed—her tongue tracing April's inner seam—"*I'm* nowhere *near done with you yet.*"
She flipped April onto her back with one sharp tug—April's sweat-slicked skin *slapping* against the sticky floor—her D-cups bouncing with the sudden motion. Aimu stood—her knees popping. "*Watch,*" she commanded—her fingers unhooking the bow at her neck—letting the fabric slip down inch by torturous inch. April's breath *hitched* as Aimu's bolero slid off—revealing smooth shoulders, the delicate dip of her collarbone—then her Chinese top—the silk parting to spill out those bouncy big C-cups April had been *dying* to taste.
"*Fuck...*" April groaned—her thighs *sticking* together with arousal—as Aimu shimmied out of her pleated skirt—the fabric pooling around her boots to reveal black lace panties *soaked* through. "*God,* you're *beautiful,*" April gasped—her fingers twitching at her sides—when Aimu finally stepped free—completely naked—her caramel skin *glowing* under the flickering fluorescents. Aimu grinned—her teeth *sharp*—as she kicked April's thighs apart with one booted foot.
"*Time for the* real *thing,*" Aimu purred—straddling April's hips—her wet pussy *dripping* onto April's stomach. "*Gonna fuck you like a* wife *should be fucked.*" She ground down—their clits catching with a *spark* of friction—both of them *gasping* at the sudden contact. Aimu's hands pinned April's wrists—her nails *biting*—as she rolled her hips *slow*—their pussies *sliding* together in a hot, sticky rhythm that had April *whining*—her back *arching* off the floor.
"*Hah... fuck!*" April's thighs *twitched*—her toes curling—as Aimu adjusted her angle—her slick folds *pressing* harder against April's throbbing clit. "*Nngh... yesss... just like that...!*"
Aimu's breath *hitched*—her caramel eyes *glazing*—when April *rocked* up to meet her—their pussies *grinding* together with *filthy*, wet *smacks* that echoed off the freezer walls. "*Mmm...you love this...don't you?*" Aimu *moaned*—her thumbs *circling* April's nipples—her hips *rolling* in *tight*, relentless circles that had April *seeing stars*.
April *groaned*—her fingers *clawing* at Aimu's thighs—as the girl *shifted*—*lifting* just enough to *align* their clits *perfectly*—before *dropping* down with a *sharp* snap of her hips. "*Fuhh...!*" April *choked*—her vision *whiting out*—as Aimu *rode* her—their pussies *slapping* together—*wet* and *hot* and *desperate*.
"*G-gonna cum...*" Aimu *whimpered*—her thighs *shaking*—her fingers *digging* bruises into April's tits. "*Make me... make me cum on your...your fucking pussy...!*"
April *growled*—her hands *sliding* down to grip Aimu's ass—her nails *scoring* crescent moons into soft flesh as she *yanked* Aimu *harder* against her. "*Do it... cum on me... fucking* ruin *me...!*"
Aimu's breath *stuttered*—her hips *faltering* for half a second—before she *snarled* and *dug* her boots into the sticky floor, *pressing* April's thighs wide with her knees. "*F...fuck...!*" Her voice *shattered*—high and *raw*—as their clits *aligned* perfectly with every *frantic* thrust, her *bouncing* tits *slapping* against April's sweat-slicked chest. "*C-can't...!*"
April *arched*—her toes *curling*—when Aimu's *grinding* turned *vicious*, the girl's *soaking* pussy *sliding* over April's clit with *ruthless* precision. "*Oh* GOD...!*" April *shrieked*—her thighs *locking* around Aimu's waist—as her orgasm *detonated*, her cunt *clenching* *emptily* around *nothing* while slick *gushed* between them in *hot*, *pulsing* waves.
Aimu *whimpered*—her hips *stuttering*—as April's *cumming* pussy *massaged* her clit with every *tremor*. "*Nnngh—F-FUCK!*" Her back *bowed*—her fingers *twisting* April's nipples—as she *came* *hard*, her *screams* muffled against April's throat while her cunt *drenched* April's stomach in *sticky* heat. "*Hah... h-ha...*" Aimu *collapsed*—her caramel skin *flushed*—her thighs *quivering* against April's hips. "*T-told you...*" she *panted*, licking April's *pulse* with a *drunken* grin. "*W-wrecked you...*"
Back in the security room, Raven tossed the flash drive onto the console with a *clack*. "*Here.*" Her black-lined eyes *flicked* to Lucy's *parted* lips. "*Don't* lose it like last time.*"
Lucy *snatched* it up—her cheeks *flaming*—as the monitor replayed Aimu *pinning* April's thighs with her boots, their *soaked* pussies *grinding* in *filthy* close-up. "*Oh my* god,*" she *whispered*, her *thumb* *stroking* the drive's edge. "*They're* *still* going...?*"
Emily *choked* on her soda—her *F-cups* *heaving*—when Aimu *yanked* April's hair on-screen, *slamming* their clits together with a *wet* *smack*. "*I... uh...*" Her *knees* *knocked* under the desk. "*D...does April* know *we're* watching?*
Raven *snorted*, *adjusting* her corset with a *creak*. "*Dumbass.*" She *leaned* in—her *D-cups* *pressing* against Lucy's shoulder—and *clicked* the zoom. "*That's* why* the camera's* angled *just* right.*"
On-screen, Aimu *growled*—her *teeth* *scraping* April's collarbone—as April *arched* with a *broken* *moan*, her *D-cups* *bouncing* with every *frantic* *thrust*. "*F...fuck!* H...harder...!*"
Lucy's *lollipop* *clattered* to the floor.
Raven looks at Lucy with a raised eyebrow. "How many of those do you have?"