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Their experiments have become far too perverted. Pushing the limits of what their bodies can do, what it can take. Peeling back layers of subconscious boundaries, uncovering the filth that lies beneath. To inject fantasies into each other's bloodstreams, watch it spread and manifest, contorting their flesh and skin as those same fantasies morph into something tangible.
Something for them to play with, to push the limits of.
Heightened senses; susceptible to overstimulation, be it a good or a bad thing. Sometimes bad, but always falling deeper into good, eventually. So long as they have the drive to keep going, reaching out towards it with greedy and stained hands.
Experiment is a word that no longer feels enough to describe what they do.
"I want to fuck inside it."
Herta almost chokes.
And still, Ruan Mei's eyes are as cold and calm and untelling as ever. It has Herta's heartbeat stumbling, the telltale signs of a blush reaching her cheeks, despite her internal command to breathe, relax, don't show vulnerability. But her body never tends to listen to her when she's around Ruan Mei; a fact that has a mixture of excitement biting at her fingertips and unease sinking beneath the surface.
It's then that Ruan Mei presses a single frosted fingertip to her chest, above the fabric of her shirt, yet the cold seeps through just as intensely. A chill chases along Herta's spine as that finger, insistent and curious, applies pressure.
"Don't tell me you're getting nervous now," Ruan Mei says, voice lingering on the threads of a whisper, lips drawing close to Herta's ear. And then, her palm lay flat against Herta's chest, cold and coated in frost, yet somehow... always, so inviting.
Herta feels the hard edge of the lab desk digging into her lower back, caught between it and the woman before her. To be trapped has never felt more thrilling.
"That's not it," Herta manages back, and it feels like a lie. Thinks maybe it is. Still, calculated and rehearsed, her mind grabs at the figment of a brush that serves her time and time again, and paints a veil of confidence. With a freshly sculpted smirk, she says, "I'm just always rather impressed by how blunt you are with your desires for me."
"Is that so..." Ruan Mei says, drawing her head back slightly just to ensnare Herta's gaze with her own. It pulls Herta in — it always does. Those icy blue eyes, sharp at the surface, yet simultaneously coated in a layer of fog and hiding everything Herta desperately aches to reach out and grasp. Ruan Mei smiles, and Herta's heart stumbles some more. "Then let me inside, won't you?"
A breath, and then —
A violet glow spills out between Ruan Mei's fingers. It seeps through the dark fabric of Herta's shirt, intense in vibrancy yet ethereal and warm. Ruan Mei's fingers dip slightly, held back by the fabric, and Herta watches as the violet emitting from her chest reflects against the cold fog of Ruan Mei's eyes; lights them up in a way Herta has only ever seen in her dreams.
It has Herta's breath catching in her throat.
"You want this, don't you?" Ruan Mei asks, fingernails scraping against Herta's shirt, finding the buttons of her blouse, playing with them.
It's like a pool of static inside her chest, melting and weaving and threading and drowning within itself. It's warm and cold, it's rough and soft; it's a million different thoughts and feelings simultaneously merging into one, and coming apart piece by piece.
It's her entire soul. And Ruan Mei wants to fuck it.
She's already wet at the thought of it.
That imaginary brush once more paints a smile, one laced with allure, with tease. One she knows digs beneath the surface of Ruan Mei's skin, claws deep and leaves its mark. An attempt to regain control.
"I do," Herta admits, voice layered in honey. "So, you won't disappoint me, will you?"
Ruan Mei's fingers twitch. Subtle, barely there. Yet Herta notices it — subconsciously, she's always searching for it. It has the keyhole in her chest melting wider; wanting more.
With her free hand, Ruan Mei grabs at Herta's wrist. Skin soft, touch gentle, yet it's eager, impatient. Ruan Mei brings Herta's hand to the front of her pants, and Herta is instantly aware of the firm warmth pressing up against her palm. It may be the only part of Ruan Mei that feels warm. It has her squeezing her thighs together, a thickness building within her throat. Excitement flickers through her veins.
"I already took your potion a while ago," Ruan Mei says as she pushes Herta's hand just a little further against her clothed erection. Herta is certain she feels it get even harder. "Just like you asked me to."
There's a softness to Ruan Mei's voice; a desperation not often unveiled in such a manner. It has Herta wishing to sink her fingers inside and hold it in place. She palms Ruan Mei through the fabric of her pants, a subconscious smirk tugging at the edges of her lips at the way Ruan Mei's eyebrows twitch and furrow. The breath held captive inside Ruan Mei's throat is beautiful, and Herta wonders just what it would take to steal it completely.
Before Herta's mind can wander further, Ruan Mei's hands are under her skirt, fingers hooking into her panties and pulling them down. It's control slipping once more, always, always under Ruan Mei's touch, and yet —
That brush of confidence falters, paint dry and cracking, flaking against her skin.
The keyhole glowing within her chest feels loose, slippery.
Perhaps deep down, to lose control is all she's truly ever wanted.
The scratch of lace underwear against her legs as it falls down her skin, the cold touch of frost against her thighs, the soft tickle of her skirt being flipped up; Herta is hyper aware of every sensation. Feels it spill against her skin like lines of code, threads of data. Feels it weave into her veins and reconstruct her internally. The wetness that sticks between her thighs so blatantly, so needily, feels like betrayal.
And at the same time, it has her wanting to drown further into the depravity of it. Like a sea of unknown, salt water merging inside of her, and when she finally surfaces gasping for breath, will she become someone new?
The desire to rediscover herself burns hot inside her blood, an idea becoming more enticing with each purposeful touch of Ruan Mei's hands against her skin.
The sound of Ruan Mei's belt, metal clattering and leather unravelling, breaks Herta out of her reverie. It has her heart skipping within her ribcage, and the sound of a zipper being pulled down has never sounded so obscene. Has never lit up the melty, distorted stars of a faux cosmos inside of her chest like this before.
"Unbutton your shirt," Ruan Mei says, hands busy as they fumble to pull down her pants and underwear. Fabric tight, fitted deliciously to her form, yet undeniably restrictive against her new addition. There's a subtle grunt caught between teeth that falls past her lips as Ruan Mei finally frees her erection.
Herta nods subconsciously, fingers precise as they undo the buttons of her blouse. She didn’t wear a bra today for good reason. Parting the fabric, she exposes her breasts and the glowing keyhole that softly pulses between them.
Her eyes flicker down to Ruan Mei's altered anatomy, and wonders how it feels for her. Herta never tested the potion on herself, and as far as she knows, this is the first time Ruan Mei has tested it, too. Yet the results are no doubt perfect. A sense of pride and satisfaction ghosts against her chest, spills into her stomach. And then it stirs and blends into something more. A need to experience her creation firsthand. To push the limits of what it can do, what it can take.
Of how much of it she can take.
Ruan Mei steps out of the pants pooled at her feet, and begins to remove her lab coat, but Herta grabs at her wrist swiftly, ceasing her movements.
"Leave it on." Fingers hooking into the collar of Ruan Mei's turtleneck, Herta pulls the other woman close, lips barely brushing together. "You're always so cold. I want to feel you burn for me."
Those eyes again, completely enveloping her own. Piercing and sharp, as though analysing every thread of data spiraling throughout Herta's body. And yet, it's as though Ruan Mei is looking right through her. Behind her, elsewhere.
It's so frustrating.
"You want to discover me, don't you?" Herta says, and it's no less than a growl. It's everything all at once, clawing at the surface. It's the wetness between her thighs, aching to be filled, and the hole in her chest, needing to be fucked. It's the empty void inside her heart that begs each night to overflow and spill with every facet of Ruan Mei she can get.
"Yes," Ruan Mei whispers, voice like winter air against her lips. "All of you."
Their bodies draw closer, Ruan Mei's warm length brushing up against the damp heat of Herta's inner thigh. It has Herta's head swimming; a familiar sensation, but this time, every question and theory and insatiable need is overwritten completely with her desire for Ruan Mei.
The last experiment they injected into one another is already old news. There has to be something more, something they missed. An uncalculated variable. There's always something more to cut apart, dissect, analyse and decipher. And Herta wants all of it.
"Then let me do the same," Herta's tongue dips out to lick along Ruan Mei's bottom lip. Plush, soft, sweet. Frosting sugar melting against her tongue. A taste Herta thinks of far too often. "I want to watch you fall apart in front of me."
One last grasp at control, Herta decides. Wanting to play with it just a little longer, before she gives it entirely to Ruan Mei. Before she places it into Ruan Mei’s dirty, beautiful hands and lets her tear Herta in half with it.
Ruan Mei grabs at her thighs, urging them further apart. Herta instinctively grasps at the edge of the lab desk, the cool surface a harsh contrast against the burning of her palms. Ruan Mei's fingers glide through her slick folds, and Herta feels her thighs twitch, her hips bucking within the eager curiosity of Ruan Mei's touch. Takes in the sight of Ruan Mei's face; usually so pale and cold, now teasing the subtle flickers of a rosy pink blush against her cheeks.
"I see," Ruan Mei says, expression still detached despite it all. Herta feels that familiar frustration biting through her once more. The urge to grab Ruan Mei's face and hold it in front of her, deconstruct and pick apart every layer and intricate detail of it until she's figured it all out. "Do you think I'm capable of that?"
It almost sounds like the question is not meant for Herta at all.
But she answers it regardless.
"Yes," Herta says, lies, doesn't know — decides it's the truth. Repaints the veil. "Just for me. Only for me."
Ruan Mei's fingers are deliberate, stroking along the length of Herta's cunt before coming to tease gently at her clit.
"You're so pretty when you're confident," Ruan Mei says, and without warning, she thrusts two fingers inside.
Herta whimpers, the sound falling from her throat pathetically, enough to have her squeezing her eyes shut in a brief moment of shame. She's tight, and yet it feels wonderful. To have Ruan Mei inside her, stretching her open with fingers she's had inside of her a hundred times before, and wishes to have a hundred times more.
The sensation of her warmth enveloping the cold flesh of Ruan Mei's digits is something Herta has become obsessed with. To completely melt the woman before her is an idea that only serves to turn Herta on even more. To make Ruan Mei fall apart and drown into her, intertwining and merging into one. To be the one to bypass all of Ruan Mei’s carefully sculpted barriers.
The violet glow spilling from her chest blooms brighter, pulsating, and as Herta slowly cracks open her eyes, she feels her heart tighten with just how beautiful Ruan Mei looks as that warm light paints against her face.
"Let me taste this."
It's no request for permission, no searching eyes. It's raw and unfettered; Ruan Mei's tongue tracing the edges of the keyhole on her chest, the fingers inside her stilling for a moment as Ruan Mei's tongue seemingly becomes overwhelmed with all that it's exposed to. Herta doesn't know what it could possibly feel like for Ruan Mei, but for her, it's immediate —
Herta's eyes widen.
Her entire body jerks, fingertips twitching against the edge of the cold desk, grip getting tighter and knuckles white. It's like static, simultaneously numbing every nerve inside her body, and at the same time, pulling at all of them. It's a sharpness cutting through her body, through her mind, and it's a blanket of petals wrapping her up and lulling her into a place far away. It's impossible to comprehend.
Even more, it's entirely addicting.
The fingers inside her cunt begin to move once again, scissoring apart and stretching her wider. They tease her, stroke her, all the while Ruan Mei's tongue is tracing the shape of the keyhole to Herta's heart. Like a picture Ruan Mei has drawn across her chest so many times before, except now, Herta has unlocked herself. Has let her vulnerability spill into Ruan Mei's open mouth.
"F-fuck—" Herta gasps, hips involuntarily bucking into Ruan Mei's fingers, chest arching against her tongue. "Mei..."
A long, deliberate lick against the edge of the keyhole, and the faint sensation of Ruan Mei's tongue dipping into her soul. Stars pour into Herta's eyes as her mind falls into nothing, and into everything. With each wet drag of Ruan Mei's tongue against her, inside of her, Herta feels pleasure rippling within her body. Feels it wrap around her bones, her limbs, holding her captive.
And then, it's gone.
Herta chokes out a gasp as Ruan Mei pulls her head back and looks curiously at her chest. It’s like time slows, dreadful and unmoving, for far too long. And then, within a heartbeat, Ruan Mei uses her free hand to slip her fingers inside the keyhole without warning, earning another sharp whimper from Herta — only to look so disappointed when she pulls her fingers out and stares at them.
…Disappointed?
"W-what? What are you doing?" Herta asks, voice a little rough, a little impatient.
It's ridiculous, just how much Herta's body feels like a doll for Ruan Mei to play with. How carelessly Ruan Mei pulls her fingers out of Herta's cunt and doesn't even so much as blink at the way Herta's entire body jolts at the sudden friction and subsequent loss. It's ridiculous how much the dismissiveness of Ruan Mei simultaneously frustrates Herta, and turns her on even more.
Before she can say anything, however, Ruan Mei has one hand pressed against her chest, fingers hooking into the edges of the keyhole and pulling it open. And with her other hand, Ruan Mei begins to push three fingers, then four, inside of Herta's chest.
Herta thinks she has lost her mind. Thinks it's floating somewhere outside of her body, or perhaps, it's crumbling further into the depths of Ruan Mei's unforgiving touch; frostbitten.
As Ruan Mei pushes her entire hand inside of Herta's chest, inside of her soul, Herta can do nothing but stand frozen, mouth agape, breath caught in her throat. Her eyes are coated in a blur, yet she can still see enough of Ruan Mei's cold and beautiful and unreadable face to keep her anchored in reality.
There's a hand inside her chest and it's clawing right through her soul.
She could only ever lay herself bare like this for one person.
A breath, and then Ruan Mei pulls her hand out, clenched tight into a fist, before letting it fall open in front of them. Herta feels her blood rush back through her body; wonders when exactly it had stilled.
Ruan Mei's hand is empty. Clean, pale, beautiful. Untainted.
Yet, her eyes grow cloudier. More distant.
"I can't take any of it," Ruan Mei says softly. It almost sounds wounded. Her fingers dip inside Herta's chest once more, as if to gather a sample, only to pull back out with the very same result: absolutely nothing. "It’s… locked inside of you."
That’s not entirely true.
"You want what's inside of me," Herta confirms, voice weak. She swallows it down. Attempts to recompose herself. Ruan Mei simply looks at her. "I told you I want you to fall apart for me first."
Ruan Mei's lip twitches. A rare tell.
"If you can do that for me, I'll let you pull apart my soul. I’ll let you taste it."
And then, Ruan Mei smiles. Hands reaching out to Herta's hips, a little rough, eagerness blooming beneath her fingertips. Her cock brushes up against Herta's inner thigh, and Herta wants nothing more than to feel it inside of her.
"And how exactly will you bring me to that point?"
Pushing Ruan Mei away from her, there's almost a look of dejection that washes over Ruan Mei's face. It's adorable. It's everything Herta wants. She lets the question hang in the air as she discards the rest of her clothing, peeling off her skirt, throwing her lab coat and blouse to the side. Until all she's left in is her boots and the glowing light spilling from the center of her chest.
“I want you desperate to come,” Herta says, tugging at Ruan Mei’s sleeve. Grasping at the threads of confidence and control once more, she pulls Ruan Mei towards a couch near the corner of the lab. “I want you to need me the same way your body needs to breathe. More than that.”
Herta sits down onto the soft couch, spreads her legs and catches the way in which Ruan Mei’s eyes are glued to her cunt. How her cock twitches, precum already leaking from the tip. A perfect result, indeed.
“And then I’ll let you fill me,” Herta promises, a smirk repainting her face so naturally, despite every bone in her body wanting nothing more than for Ruan Mei to take the lead and completely break her. “In here,” Herta says, tracing a finger along the edges of the luminous keyhole to her heart.
Ruan Mei nods, cute and eager, and she’s about to settle against the couch with Herta, but Herta holds out a hand to cease her movements.
“On the floor.”
It’s frost-coated calculation, searching her eyes, rolling through every subtle tell of Herta’s body that scratches through to the surface. But this is no bluff.
After a moment, Ruan Mei understands, and gets to her knees. Spreads them slightly, attempting as much comfort as she possibly can muster on the cold, synthetic ground. It’s rather pitiful, and entirely gorgeous.
“Touch yourself,” Herta commands. “And tell me exactly how it feels. This is new for you, right?”
A breath, a lick of her lips that seems almost nervous — Herta doesn’t think she’s ever seen this side of her before — and then Ruan Mei wraps her hand around her length. A subtle flex of her neck as she swallows, the blush against her cheeks deepening further. Ruan Mei begins to stroke herself slowly.
“It feels interesting...” Ruan Mei says.
“I want details.”
A moan stumbles from Ruan Mei’s mouth, and Herta finds it to be such a wonderfully sweet sound. A loss of control, a momentary surrender to one’s own intrinsic pleasure. Even more fascinating when falling from the lips of Ruan Mei — the only person to ever capture Herta’s attention so vividly, so completely.
“Part of my mind still hasn’t caught up,” Ruan Mei admits. “A part of it still thinks I’m wet right now. And like I need your fingers inside of me…”
Herta can’t help but grin. Each revelation truthfully less for science, and more so to feed her own arousal, at this point. She brings a hand between her own legs, fingers coated in slick, and begins to stroke her clit in a slow, unrushed rhythm.
Ruan Mei’s eyes stick to Herta’s body and to the motion of her fingers, as she continues to touch herself. As her grip tightens and her voice falters. “But a bigger part of it knows exactly what it needs right now. How hard I’m aching for you. To fuck inside you.”
Perhaps Herta will fall apart before Ruan Mei does.
It’s not like she didn’t entirely expect such a response. It’s only natural, after all; the potion transforming this part of Ruan Mei’s body was also laced with an aphrodisiac, just for extra fun. For extra results. Thus, to be surprised by Ruan Mei’s desperation would be foolish, and yet, it has Herta’s heart pounding within her chest and pulsing against her ears.
“Is it painful? To ache this much.”
It’s almost a glare. Ice-cold blue.
“Would you like it if I said yes?”
Herta grins. “You know I would.”
It’s as though Herta can feel those eyes sinking into her flesh. The way they rove over her body, scratching and lingering against the hole in her chest, and then down to the glistening mess between her legs.
“Yes,” Ruan Mei says, hand quickening its rhythm. “It hurts. I need you, Herta.”
Such a beautiful display of desire. Herta wonders what it would look like if it’s torn in half.
“Stop.”
Ruan Mei’s eyebrows narrow, confusion glossing her face. And still, she continues to stroke herself, wrapped up in her own lust-dripped fantasy.
“I said stop,” Herta snaps.
And then Ruan Mei stops.
A sickening shudder stumbling through her body, one so pitiful Herta thinks she almost feels it herself. And there’s a twinge of remorse, only slightly, as she watches the way Ruan Mei’s fingers twitch as she tears her hand away from herself, letting it fall weakly at her side.
An interesting reaction, but certainly not close enough to the fractured state she wants Ruan Mei in.
Herta ceases her own motions on her clit, and instead brings her fingers to her chest. Her eyes stay focused on Ruan Mei, hyper aware of every detail, every breath, every subtle flicker of anticipation that may curl against the surface. She’s watching Ruan Mei just as sharp and precisely as the other woman is watching her, and all of it feels like a rather amusing game of who can figure out who first.
Her fingers dip into her chest, into her soul, and it’s a feeling stuck between pleasure and discomfort. The tips of her fingers almost humming with static as she pulls them back out, noticing the way Ruan Mei’s pretty blue eyes widen in wonder as a sticky, wet violet residue drips from her digits and trickles against her breasts.
“I thought…” Ruan Mei trails off, eyes never leaving Herta’s fingers.
“I told you I want you broken first,” Herta says. “Then you can have this. But I suppose if you need some encouragement, I can let you have a little right now.”
It’s not wise to do this. Herta knows this. It’s liquid fragments of her being, her soul, and she’s pulling it out of the hole in her chest. But it’s glowing, pulsing within her own palms, and the heat blooming inside her is telling her to give it to Ruan Mei.
It’ll get rebuilt, eventually. Like an open wound, it’ll heal right over with enough time and care. As long as she doesn’t give too much.
“Come, sit,” Herta coos, voice dripping almost as warm and wet as the residue on her fingers. She pats her thighs, leans back a little further into the couch.
Ruan Mei doesn’t need to be told again. She sits atop Herta’s thighs, one hand braced on the back of the couch near Herta’s head, cock grazing against Herta’s stomach. Herta brings her slick, soul-covered fingers to Ruan Mei’s length, coats it generously, and begins to stroke her hand up and down.
“Fuck—!” Ruan Mei gasps instantly. “H-Herta…”
It’s an incredible sensation; it’s as though she has Ruan Mei completely under her thumb. Or perhaps in this case, within the palm of her hand. So warm and hard, pulsing against her grip. It’s all of Ruan Mei’s wants and desires, right beneath her fingertips.
“Don’t you dare come,” Herta warns, bringing her free hand to slip beneath Ruan Mei’s lab coat, her turtleneck, resting at her hip. Skin once so cold and unalive, now burning beneath her touch. “Not yet.”
A look of desperation, peering down at her. It’s perhaps the most adorable thing Herta has ever witnessed. It could even be mistaken as innocently naive, if not for the circumstances. Herta wants it all.
Ruan Mei simply nods, hips incapable of keeping still as she rocks eagerly into Herta’s hand.
“You’re so warm, I like it,” Herta says, fingernails scratching against Ruan Mei’s hip, teasing the skin. “Did you know I put an aphrodisiac in that potion?”
Ruan Mei almost laughs, a smile touching the corner of her lips. Herta steals a snapshot of such a sight and seals it deep inside of her heart to look back on. For tomorrow, and every day that follows.
“Yes,” Ruan Mei breathes out, bringing her other hand to Herta’s head. She strokes her hair as if she cares. As if she’s precious. Eyes that once looked right through her, now piercing directly into Herta’s soul. “From the moment I drank it.”
Herta tightens her grip, has Ruan Mei choking out a moan, and then says, “Do you think this is all synthetic, then?”
In an instant, Herta stops. Releases her hand. And Ruan Mei whimpers, voice breaking. Her body shivers terribly, and the fingers atop Herta’s head scratch in reflex at her scalp.
Ruan Mei takes a breath, a look of betrayal wet in her eyes. Just barely.
“No…” Ruan Mei says, voice shaky. It may be the most unravelled she’s ever been. Herta enjoys the look of it. Wishes to be that way, too. “I’ve wanted you from the moment I saw you.”
“You’re lying,” Herta says quickly, heartbeat thumping. And it’s not like she wouldn’t believe such a thing if it were said by any other person — after all, Herta is flawless. Herta is beauty and brilliance and spectacular results and limitless talents.
It’s just that, for Ruan Mei to say it…
Herta feels the hole within her chest ache.
“I’m not. I’ve always found you fascinating,” Ruan Mei admits. “Even without all of this, I’d still crave everything about you, just as much. Just as I did yesterday, and the day before. Just how I will tomorrow.”
“How… poetic,” Herta says softly, an attempt to quell the flames chasing up into her throat. She curls her fingers inside of her chest again, gathers more of the sticky, violet wetness, and begins to pleasure Ruan Mei once more.
A little faster this time, a little more purposeful.
“Herta… Fuck, Herta, please—”
“That’s it,” Herta whispers; her voice somehow dissolving further with each moment she spends sinking into the realisation that Ruan Mei truly does desire her. Just as much as she desires Ruan Mei. “Show me more of this side of you, Ruan Mei.”
A broken moan, twisting into a whimper.
Herta analyses every part of Ruan Mei that burns against her, that melts into her touch and falls from her lips. There’s no doubt she’s close.
So Herta stops again.
“Ngh—! No, please, Herta…”
“Come on,” Herta says, bringing her hand to Ruan Mei’s cheek. Sees the way those frosty blue eyes have drowned completely into something so fractured and helpless. Utterly beautiful, and completely precious. “Don’t you remember what I told you earlier?”
Ruan Mei’s bangs stick to her face, all flushed and messy. Her mouth is parted, shaky hot breaths falling out across pretty pink lips. Herta dips a finger inside her chest and then brings it to those beautiful lips, nudging her fingers inside, allowing Ruan Mei her first promised taste.
The moan that follows is all Herta needs to hear to amplify the ache between her own thighs. Ruan Mei’s tongue glides across her digits, takes them further into her mouth and begins to suck eagerly. It’s only when she’s sure she’s gotten it all does she allow Herta to reclaim her hand.
“The taste…” Ruan Mei says, a brief pause filling the air, and then, “...bittersweet.”
Herta thinks such a descriptor sounds about right.
“I think you’ve crumbled enough,” Herta decides, letting her fingers brush softly against the heat of Ruan Mei’s soft cheek. “The rest of you can fall apart inside me. What do you say?”
Of course, Ruan Mei says nothing at all.
Instead, she raises herself up slightly, enough to have the back of her lab coat tickling at Herta’s knees. And then, she’s bracing both hands at the back of the couch either side of Herta’s head, as she aligns her cock perfectly with the keyhole in Herta’s chest.
The moment the head pushes inside, Herta sees stars. The same stars that drift and float among the cosmos residing in her chest, perhaps. It’s completely different than having her own fingers inside of it; a foreign intrusion, and her body immediately wants to reject it. Wants to push it away, protect everything inside and seal itself shut.
But the sickening craving that continues to eat away at her mind and heart is telling her she wants more. The wetness between her thighs, no doubt dripping into the couch, is further evidence and just as guilty.
It’s an almost dreadful sensation of pain and pleasure; ice cold waves against burning hot fire, the serrated edges of a knife and the softest of touches, all at once. And all of it has Herta drowning within herself.
She hasn’t even realised that Ruan Mei’s hips are flush against her chest; her aching warm length, all the way inside.
Only when a hand comes to rest atop her head again, does her vision unblur back into reality. Ruan Mei’s eyes have never held a look of concern quite like this before, and Herta thinks she is falling in love. This has to be love.
How else could she be foolish enough to let someone fuck her soul?
“Does it hurt?”
How sweet. It's almost strange to hear it.
But the answer is too convoluted to express, so Herta simplifies it.
“It feels exactly the way I want it to.”
Control slips, finally — that imaginary brush set aside to repaint her pretty face on another day. Right now, she wishes to see the results of her own collapse.
“Don’t stop,” Herta says, voice falling soft into the edges of a plea. “I want all of it inside of me.”
The kiss to her forehead is unexpected, and all it does is further pull apart her mind. It has every part of her insides treading fire, and stumbling against coals. Herta melts within Ruan Mei’s kiss, and arches her chest into Ruan Mei’s hips.
Ruan Mei fucks into her with a messy desperation, completely lost of all precision. This is not data collection, nor carefully studied reaction testing. This is only the act of pure, carnal desire. Lust weaving and wrapping around the limbs of a person completely succumbed to their own filthy arousal.
And Herta is no better.
She feels the keyhole to her heart tighten around Ruan Mei’s cock, feels it clench around her length with each quick and fervent thrust. It’s like choking, but somewhere deep down and further away. And instead of stealing her breath, it’s simply reawakening every nerve inside of her body, over and over again. Lighting it up like stars.
“I-I’m already close,” Ruan Mei admits, voice trembling, barely falling through the thickness of the air.
Herta can only moan, bringing her hand between her legs and finding her clit once more. She strokes herself in a rhythm that matches Ruan Mei’s thrusts; she wants to come with her. Wants their pleasure to be interwoven, tied in pretty knots within each other, tangled in ecstasy.
“I can feel all of you,” Ruan Mei gasps. “E-every part of you. Every memory, every emotion, every thought—”
A part of Herta panics, blood running cold. Exposed. She let too much of herself slip; left herself wide open.
“It’s okay,” Ruan Mei says. Her voice has never sounded sweeter. Never sounded so close. She strokes Herta’s hair, and Herta’s never felt more terrifyingly broken. Still, somehow, she can’t stop. “Fuck, Herta—”
There’s no time to wonder what she let leak out. To wonder what secrets she let spill. Instead, all Herta can feel right now is the way Ruan Mei’s fingers are woven tightly through her hair, the way her hips are grinding against Herta’s chest, and the sensation of Ruan Mei’s hot release filling her soul.
Herta feels her own climax ripple through her. It chases through her body, like waves after waves. A feeling of being alive she’s never reached before, and at the same time, it’s as though she’s dreaming. It’s Ruan Mei’s voice and Ruan Mei’s touch and Ruan Mei’s everything, all inside of her and against her and within her.
This isn’t being broken at all.
This is being put back together.
When Ruan Mei pulls out, it’s a mess. It’s a cosmic-like violet liquid seeping out from her chest, painting against Ruan Mei too, and truthfully it looks horrifying. It’s like she’s been shot and left to bleed out, and although her body is trembling in the aftershocks, she still feels so entirely alive.
Reinvented, even.
There’s a hot wet sensation against her chest, then. Slow, savouring. Ruan Mei licks along Herta’s stomach, down into her lap. She drags her tongue across Herta’s flushed skin until it’s as clean as it can get. And then she lifts her head, looking at Herta with a fondness in those pretty blue eyes.
“You’re not expecting me to do the same for you, are you?” Herta asks, glancing down at Ruan Mei’s softening cock, completely painted violet. It’s almost silly to look at.
Ruan Mei simply shakes her head, thighs a little shaky as she removes herself from Herta’s lap. She pulls at the sleeves of her lab coat, tugging it off and wrapping it around Herta’s naked body. The act has Herta feeling far too warm, far too pleasant, and suddenly, she’s reminded of what Ruan Mei had said when inside her.
Her memories, her emotions. Her thoughts…?
Before she can get lost within her own mind and figure out what exactly she may have let escape, Ruan Mei is sitting down next to her, face too close and back to analysing and calculation.
To be scrutinized like this right now…
“I love you too.”
Her heart stops.
“Wh-what?” Herta asks incredulously. And still, a blush dances against her cheeks. A fluttering sensation playing inside her chest and chasing higher. Her voice stumbles. “I…”
Those eyes. Herta has never felt them stare so intently, so intimately into her before. No longer looking behind her, no longer through her. Still searching, still deciphering. But this time, with a softness. A softness Herta wishes to keep a hold of. To see more of.
“I’m… glad.”
Ruan Mei brings her hand to Herta’s face, fingers delicate against her cheek. It’s a moment that lingers in a way that has time feeling irrelevant and far away. To be lost in Ruan Mei’s eyes forever; what a delightfully pleasant fate, she decides. It’s only when Ruan Mei leans in close, does time start back up again.
They kiss as if it’s their first.
At least, that’s how Herta feels.
Because the way Ruan Mei’s lips are brushing against her own is something completely isolated from lust. It’s simple, slightly cautious. Territory unknown, and somehow, so entirely natural. Herta leans into it, thinks she might even dream of it again later tonight.
Eventually they part, but Ruan Mei is still holding Herta’s face, and Herta is still leaning into it. Their faces are close enough to still taste each other’s breaths.
“I like the way that kiss felt,” Ruan Mei says softly.
Herta lets out a breath of amusement, a smile pinching at the corners of her lips.
“Then do it again.”