Chapter Text
Ashe’s lips curled into a scowl as she downed yet another swig of whiskey on the night—straight from the bottle, just the way she preferred. She’d stopped counting the shots of amber-colored death juice after eight or so, but only because she simply didn’t care enough to keep track anymore. The sour taste never got any more pleasant, though, regardless of how much of the vile liquid she pumped down her gullet. It tasted like shit. It always tasted like shit. And anyone who told you otherwise was a liar.
glk! glk! gluk! glk!
It had been a long day. Being the de facto queenpin for a brutal outlaw gang was hard work. Stressful, too. Just today she had to make the monumental decision of selecting the appetizers for the gang’s quarterly luncheon. Stuffed jalapeño poppers versus sweet rolls drizzled with butter. The enormous gravity that came with such a bedeviling choice was enough to crack most folks like an egg, but that’s why they paid her the big bucks. It certainly helped matters that gang activity was a lucrative business. Ashe liked money quite a lot.
gluk! glk! schlurp! gluk!
How else would she have been able to afford her own mansion? Or be the proud owner of a souped-up Dodge Stratus fitted with a plastic racing spoiler and nitrous? By staying in Overwatch? Pffft. One week with those limp-dicked do-gooders was more than enough time for the cowgirl to realize she’d stumbled into the wrong line of work. Her style was a bit more under the table. A little bit of criminal activity never killed anyone. Usually.
gluk gluk gluk gluk!
Course, with her sixteen bedroom mansion only having two living occupants, perhaps she had been living a bit too lavishly. But what was she supposed to do? Not spend her hard-earned fortune on nice things? She’d reached this level of wealth through blood, grit, and gunpowder, and she planned to wring every last penny of pleasure she could from this life until it had nothing left to give.
mfmgmmgmmh! mmMMFH! glock glock glock! schlurp! MMGMFMMH!
…speaking of pleasure, the other inhabitant of Ashe’s mansion was beginning to make it very difficult for her to semi-drunkenly muse with her own thoughts.
“Hey! Take it easy there, Princess.” she grumpily grumbled, looking down from her recliner to the sorry excuse for a Talon Agent between her knees. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“But I wanttttt itttttt! ” Sombra whined, pausing her spirited worship of the cowgirl’s cock for a brief moment to complain, only to immediately spear the girthy, delectable treat between the white-haired woman’s legs down her throat again.
“Ahhh.” Ashe sighed almost stubbornly, forced to embrace the jolts of pleasure that ran up her spine every time Sombra took her dick down to its base like it was no big deal. She made deepthroating ten and a half hard inches of thick girlcock look easy, and it certainly was anything but easy.
It was funny how the world-renowned hacker had come to live in Ashe’s mansion. She hadn’t been in Overwatch long enough for Sombra to pop up on her radar, nor her on Sombra’s. Instead, it happened through an encounter of pure chance at a bar about three months ago. The cowgirl had been at her usual spot, cleaning house at the poker table, when this particularly cute Latina sauntered in to take the place of a player she’d just sent packing. Ashe remembered it like it was yesterday…
“I’ll raise.” the cowgirl chirped, throwing down a sizable sum of chips into the pot. She maintained a neutral persona externally, but internally, she was brimming with confidence. She had pocket aces, the undisputed king of poker hands. And the flop had been favorable for her. She let others bet up the pot before she took this chance after the turn card to force everyone’s hand. And sure enough, one by one, each player took a look at their cards and another look at the cards in the middle of the table before accepting defeat and tossing their hand to the dealer. No one dared to challenge the leader of the Deadlock Rebels. She was a viper at poker tables, and only an idiot would willingly wade into deep waters with her during a hand like this.
“All in.”
Ashe’s eyes whipped up to the source of the voice. It came from the same mysterious woman that had joined the game only minutes prior. She pushed all of her chips to the center with a crafty smile on her face and shot a smug look at the cowgirl. Big mistake.
“Your funeral.” Ashe answered in a heartbeat. “Call.”
With a massive sum sitting in the pot, both women turned over their cards. The entire table reacted as one might expect when they saw Ashe’s double aces, but the cowgirl was far too preoccupied to even notice the whoops and hollers from the players that had already bowed out. She had a look of incredulity plastered across her face, almost frozen in disbelief as she looked at her opponent’s cards.
Three of diamonds, eight of clubs. A horrible hand. One of the very worst in the entire game. And this bitch had just willingly gone all in with it.
She’d been lucky enough to get a three of hearts on the turn, so she at least had a pair. But Ashe’s aces reigned supreme against a meager pair of threes. So long as the river wasn’t a three or an eight, the caramel-skinned woman would be going home with substantially lighter pockets than when she entered.
And yet, she looked entirely unfazed. That same smug smirk was still on her face. Like she knew something. It made Ashe’s blood boil.
The dealer gave the room a moment to breathe before placing the river card down.
Three of clubs.
The entire table was stunned. Had this mysterious woman really just bet everything she had with a three-eight offsuit only to somehow get three of a kind? Against pocket aces? Against Ashe, of all people???
Sombra laughed as she raked in her chips. She wore a shit-eating grin pointed straight at the cowgirl. But that grin soon turned to a deep frown as Ashe made a simple hand gesture at two of the bouncers, who subsequently grabbed the hacker by her shoulders and not-so-politely escorted her to the back room.
…
“I know you did something.” Ashe growled, inches away from the handcuffed woman who’d beaten her for a huge pot only minutes beforehand. “This is my joint, and if you think you can steal from me in my own home and get away with it, I’ll have my hired muscle break both of your legs before we even start this interrogation.”
“Do you always threaten anyone who beats you?” Sombra quipped right back, her smug grin fully returned. “You lost. That’s all it was. It's not my fault I’m better than you.”
Ashe’s left eye twitched dangerously. Her blood ran hot like melted steel. It took every ounce of willpower in her not to kill this bitch on the spot. She took a long, calming breath and opted for a more personal and less murder-y approach.
“You better pray I don’t find anything on you.” was all the cowgirl offered before she not-so-gently patted down the dark-skinned woman. Her hands roamed Sombra’s skimpy green dress and exposed skin with extreme prejudice, thoroughly tracing the woman’s legs down to her ankles, her wrists to her shoulders, and her upper back all the way down to her shapely rear.
“If you wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask, chica.” Sombra jested.
Cheating bitch or not, Ashe could not deny that this woman’s body was fantastic. Child-bearing hips. Small but perky breasts. A cute face with a hint of mischief in it. Flawless skin. Killer legs. A divine ass. She had it all, and she knew it. It wouldn’t have ticked Ashe off so much if she hadn’t gotten a hard-on just from frisking the teaseful minx.
Still, the leader of the Deadlock Gang would not be deterred from her search by simple pleasures of the flesh, regardless of the increasingly uncomfortable feeling that came from her erect dick rubbing tightly against the confines of her denim jeans. And finally, after what felt like the most awkwardly intimate interrogation of Ashe’s life, she felt something out of place. A tiny, square-shaped object stuck on the inner part of Sombra’s thigh. She ripped it from its spot and held it out to observe. A computer chip. Far more advanced than anything she’d ever seen, with all sorts of fancy bells and whistles blinking in random sequences. She had no idea what its true purpose was, but it would have to suffice. She had her evidence.
“Don’t know how you managed to finagle a victory in poker with this thingamajig.” Ashe shot a wolfish grin right back at her cute captive, who suddenly seemed far less interested in playful banter. “But I’m confident that it helped you win somehow. And that’s plenty good enough for me.”
Ashe closed the distance between the two women in an instant, pushing Sombra roughly up against the wall behind them, her hand clasped tightly around the caramel-skinned woman’s throat, her face pressed nearly flush against her ear.
“You’ve been a bad, bad girl.” Ashe cooed, still deciding how exactly she wanted to play this. Of course, she had no intention of actually harming the girl. She wasn’t that much of a monster to kill her over a single hand of poker. But she also knew that if she didn’t scare the living daylights out of her, she might try something again later down the road. An ounce of prevention was worth a pound of cure, or whatever.
“I-I… uh…” Sombra stuttered, finally at a loss for words, unable to move or fight back or find an excuse that would get her out of this. And feeling the large, stiff mass between Ashe’s legs press snugly against her own pelvis was decidedly not helping things.
“You know what I do to bad girls?” Ashe gently grazed her teeth against the woman’s earlobe, eliciting a tiny gasp from her lips.
Sombra swallowed hard, sweat beading down her forehead as she found herself entirely at the cowgirl’s mercy. She waited on baited breath for Ashe to finish her statement. A strange heat was building up inside her. And she realized, in this moment, that she may have gotten slightly more than what she bargained for.
“I punish them.”
Seconds went by as the two women remained locked in their positions. But Ashe soon cocked her head slightly to the side in confusion. Sombra's entire demeanor seemed to have changed after her threat, but it didn’t feel like it was out of fear. There was a noticeable twinge of red adorning the dark-skinned woman’s cheeks. She took heavy, labored breaths, almost like she was panting. Her lips were slightly parted with an oddly erotic undertone about them. She’d leaned her head off to the side a little bit to expose more of her neck towards her captor, and she’d completely given herself over to the cowgirl’s close embrace. It was almost as if…
And then, Ashe felt it. The explanation behind everything. The watershed moment in this cursed shakedown.
Sombra’s dick was as hard as stone.
It happened so fast. Ashe hadn’t even realized the cheating woman was packing until her shaft suddenly reached its maximum potential. It pressed itself firmly against the cowgirl’s cock, pulsing with need every few seconds, and Ashe couldn’t help but notice that it was considerably smaller than her own. It was probably only about four inches, but it raged with impressive desperation. And finally, the last puzzle piece clicked into place in the cowgirl’s mind.
“Ha.” Ashe dryly chuckled, shaking her head. “You’re serious? You’re getting off on this?”
“I… n-need…” Sombra could barely string the words together. All of the confidence and bravado she’d been sporting had evaporated in only a moment’s time. Gone was the intentionally abrasive woman looking to ruffle the cowgirl’s feathers. All that remained was a trembling, horny mess in her stead. “P-please… I need to be… punished.”
“Well, well, well.” Ashe purred, possessively running her thumb under the shivering woman’s chin. She used her free hand to unbuckle her jeans, and they quickly fell around her ankles. Her stiff girlcock bounced free and pointed up towards the ceiling in all its glory. She lifted Sombra’s dress up so that her excited member was also allowed its time in the sun, and then she pressed herself against the card swindler once again, forcing her larger unit to throb with domineering lust against her counterpart’s lesser dick.
“Who am I to say no to a lady’s request?”
A sly smile spread across Ashe’s features as she recalled the rest of that night. Sombra’s need for the cowgirl’s cock was utterly unhinged, and she did anything and everything Ashe demanded of her, no matter how depraved. She happily surrendered both of her holes to the gunslinger with no regard for her own dick’s pleasure, and yet, she still managed to cum on six separate occasions by the time they were finished, most of which were induced by having ten hard inches of bulging girlmeat shoved straight up her tight derrière.
At the end of it all, after they were both completely and utterly spent, laying together in the spare bedroom above the bar, Sombra even offered to give back the money that she’d stolen. In her eyes, getting fucked that hard shouldn’t be free. But Ashe had a better idea.
“Keep the money. Come live with me. Be my slut. Let me take care of every need, desire, and shameful craving you have. I’ll make all your dreams come true, Princess.”
That was how Ashe came to have two people living in her sixteen bedroom mansion. That’s why the former Talon Agent, once feared by cybersecurity networks across the globe, had been reduced to an insatiable, cockdrunk slut that was currently between her legs, sucking her dick like tomorrow was not guaranteed while the cowgirl nonchalantly sipped whiskey and watched late-night TV. For a woman as intelligent and savvy as the Latina was, it might come as a surprise that she was so willing to be whisked away to Ashe’s luxurious home to essentially be her glorified cocksleeve. But once the cowgirl figured out exactly what Sombra was during that first encounter, the rest was fairly easy.
Sombra was a brat. A pureblooded, pedigreed, premiere brat.
Brats have an interesting dynamic at play when it comes to getting their rocks off. Ashe had run into their kind before, and make no mistake, they desperately wanted to be dominated. They lived to please their owner; to be used and abused at their leisure because that’s what dumpster sluts deserve. But here’s the rub: they didn’t want to give themselves up without a fight. They wanted to challenge any would-be domme. Make them work for it. Make them earn their submission. And if they failed to do so, they may find themselves on the receiving end of a stiff girlcock up their ass before the night’s over.
The best way Ashe could explain it was with a simple scenario. Brats want to be bent over your knee and given the spanking they so desperately deserve, but they will fight you every step of the way until your hand finally meets their ass for the first time. And after it does, after you prove to them that you are a capable master, they’ll be yours forever. Being a brat tamer was hard work, especially with how often the Latina liked to push Ashe’s buttons to get a reaction. Fortunately, whipping out her massive dick generally put an end to any minor acts of rebellion in a hurry.
Nevertheless, Sombra’s angle had become obvious in that interrogation room rather quickly. She talked a big game. Got under the cowgirl’s skin at every opportunity. Poked and prodded with her words like they were daggers, all in the hopes to elicit the specific reaction she was looking for. All she really wanted was for a scary woman with a dick bigger than her own to put her in her place, and Ashe was more than happy to oblige. Whether her rigging the poker game was part of that elaborate scheme or not was still up in the air, but by this point, Ashe couldn’t care less. Having a sexy, disgraced Talon Agent serving as her personal cum receptacle every night more than made up for any potential wrongdoings in the past.
Ashe downed another shot of whiskey as she watched Sombra slobber on her dick. The cowgirl’s eyes were half-lidded as the booze finally began to take its toll, but even through her inebriation she could appreciate the dedication her favorite cockmuncher had to her craft. Sombra was devoted in her adoration, slurping on Ashe’s meat like it was the finest ambrosia from the gods above. Her saliva ran over in excess, covering every inch of Ashe’s pulsing member and dripping down to coat her heavy balls. Speaking of which, Sombra was never one to forget her master’s jewels. Every minute or so she’d unsheath herself from the hard pole and bring her mouth to the pale, bloated balls below, alternating between licking, sucking, and garling on them. Her hand worked the shaft above, pumping away at a steady rhythm as she provided the full servicing Ashe deserved.
“Fucking slut.” Ashe groaned affectionately, admiring her pet’s diligent technique in the art of sucking cock. She peeked her head over slightly, just enough to get a view of Sombra’s squatting legs and the painfully hard four inches of girlcock between them. The dark-skinned woman’s petite dick throbbed and bounced with unfettered glee, flapping up and down as she bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement. A thin trail of precum leaked from her tip all the way down to the carpet below, leaving a shallow stain in the expensive material. The concept of a hands-free orgasm was something entirely lost on Ashe, but her girlfriend/lover/pet/slave had them all the time, albeit mostly from anal sex. But, on rare occasions, she could cum just from sucking the cowgirl off, and judging by how desperate her undersized tool looked as it strained and throbbed with perverse delight, tonight sure seemed like it might be one of those times.
As if to illustrate this further, Sombra’s moans, albeit muffled due to once again throating ten inches of cowgirl cock, suddenly spiked in both volume and pitch. Ashe watched her submissive with vested interest, her red eyes bouncing back and forth between the Latina’s blushing face and neglected member. The poor girl even began humping the air, swinging her wide hips forward time and time again as if to fool her dick into thinking she was fucking something. The whole scenario was so perversely pathetic and shameless that it sent Ashe’s libido to the moon.
“Don’t slow down. ”
Sombra only doubled her effort in reaction to Ashe’s words, milking her dick with all she had and sending the cowgirl on a one-way trip to O-town. Her legs flexed tight and she released a muted sound somewhere between a sigh and a moan as she shot a hefty load down the Latina’s throat, painting the walls of her mouth with thick, virile baby batter that was simply unrivaled in its combination of volume, potency, and flavor. The feeling, the taste, and the texture of her master’s cum guzzling down her throat sent Sombra over the edge as well, and within only seconds of Ashe’s orgasm she found herself unable to hold back, her cock flopping happily as it spurted its own fairly sizeable load onto the carpet below. She moaned like a bitch in heat around the luscious fuckpole occupying her mouth, sucking and throating it through the entirety of her own orgasm and continuing for a while even after she was finished, only stopping when she felt a strong hand gently rubbing the top of her head.
“That’s enough. Let’s go to bed.”
“You know, I think we could have even more fun in the bedroom, mi vida.”
“Oh?” Ashe raised her eyes from her book and looked at her cock-addict for a roommate, who was mindlessly tapping away at her phone. “What’d you have in mind?”
“Well.” Sombra shifted to her side and met her master’s gaze. “What do you think about bringing in another girl? Y’know… one that’s built like us.”
“Hmmm.” She scratched her chin in thought. "Mean to say my dick isn’t doing it for you anymore? Because based on what I saw tonight, I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Of course I’m not saying that, puta. Your cock is the only one I’ll ever need again. But the idea of you finding other high-profile women like myself and making them submit to you kinda turns me on… Like a lot.”
“So you want me to go out and fuck other women into submission and then… what? Bring them back here so you can all suck me off every night?” Ashe snorted in disbelief.
“Exactly!” Sombra’s eyes seemed to almost sparkle with enthusiasm. Her hand began to slowly creep up Ashe’s thigh as she continued, “A woman like you deserves a stable of whores, mi amor. Your body should be worshiped in full, and even though I do my best, I only have one mouth, and there are many parts of you that need to be adored. When’s the last time I touched your boobs? It’s been ages, because I always get distracted with… other parts of you.”
Admittedly, the cowgirl didn’t hate the idea. She did have a big house with plenty of space, after all. And there was something insanely arousing about the idea of fucking other women with cocks of their own until they submitted to her. But she still had a feeling that the hacker had an ulterior motive at play. Despite how subservient the Latina had become over the past few months, she still operated with her own interests in mind on occasion. Such was the life of a brat.
“I get it.” Ashe closed her book and turned to face her brat. “You just want some new blood around here to compete with. Someone who’s even more submissive than you are. You’ll probably try to establish some sorta hierarchy that lands you squarely at the top of my, as you put it, stable of whores.”
“I mean…” Sombra’s hand lightly grazed the cowgirl’s quickly hardening shaft. “I would be lying if I said I wouldn’t like that. I could show them how inferior they are at sucking cock compared to me… we could even have contests between us… winner gets fucked by you… loser has to watch… Fuck, it would be so hot!”
“Much as I’d like to watch something like that, we already have a good thing going here, Princess.” Ashe stroked the Latina’s cheek in a genuine show of affection. “I wouldn’t want you to get jealous over who I give my six-shooter to.”
“Hermosa, I am not in a position that allows for jealousy.” Sombra maintained eye contact despite the burning blush that crept onto her cheeks. “You can do whatever you please. Give your cock to whoever you want. I am yours. I am your slut.”
The white-haired woman chuckled, leaning her head back against the bed. “Well, in this made up fantasy world of yours, you’d be my favorite slut over all the rest, Princess. You were my first, after all.”
Sombra smiled. “Sounds to me like you’re coming around to the idea.”
Ashe sighed deeply, closing her eyes tightly in concentration. “Alright, let’s say hypothetically I agreed to this insane idea. How would it even work? It’s not like I know other powerful women on a first-name basis or where they live. And who would I even be going after, anyway?”
“This may come as a surprise, but before I moved in with you I used to be a pretty half-decent hacker.” Sombra's voice dripped with bratty sarcasm. “I can get you anywhere with anyone in like ten minutes, tops. And once they experience what you have to offer the same way I did, they’ll be begging you to take them home as a permanent fixture. As for who you should go after… I think Talon and Overwatch are a pretty great place to start. I mean, where else are you gonna find powerful women that are also hot?”
Ashe chewed her lip as she mulled the idea over. On one hand, the thought of having an entire roster of hot women parading around her house as glorified sex slaves was pretty damn alluring. They could take care of the cooking (no more door-dash bills!) and the cleaning (no more dishes piling up in the sink!) and most importantly, ensure that her balls were constantly drained. Ashe’s libido was quite literally bottomless and although Sombra was always up to the task, even she had her limits. On the other hand, the women her partner had in mind for her to dominate were incredibly dangerous. Ashe was no small fish herself, but there was certain to be great risk involved should she pursue them. She gave the idea a few more seconds of deep thought, weighing both the pros and the cons, before she finally arrived at her decision.
“Fuck it, I’m in. Let’s tame some sluts.”
Sombra’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Oh you’re going to love this, mi amor! And I know just who our first victim should be.”
Ashe raised her eyebrow. “Go on.”
“She’s a Talon Agent. I knew her pretty well when I worked with them. Here, let me show you a picture.” Sombra fidgeted around the covers of the bed until she found her phone. She scrolled through it for a moment before flipping it around to show Ashe.
“Quite the looker, that one. She’s kinda scary, though. What else do you know about her?”
“Hmm…” Somba tapped her chin. “She’s one of their best assassins.”
“Don’t love that.”
“Buuuuuut she also has the best ass I’ve ever seen, Maestra. And I’ll bet you still have enough time to claim it as your own tonight.”
The pitter-patter of raindrops colliding against metal and brick filled the air around Amélie Lacroix. It was late, around half past one in the morning, but she remained as alert as ever. She had a target to eliminate, and three shots of high-octane super-caffeine (AKA one monster energy drink) were more than enough to keep her vigilant. Said target was supposed to be arriving home any minute now to her apartment, but due to the awkward angle required for her to secure the necessary killshot, the assassin, known to her foes as Widowmaker, was left with only one viable location to use as her crow’s nest.
The rooftop of a twelve-story building in the downtown district just across the street from her target’s apartment complex. It was the perfect spot, really. Up here, at this hour, nobody would bother her. Her rifle was silenced, so noise wasn’t a real issue either. And she always preferred hunting in the open air as opposed to being cooped up inside a room, leaning out of some dingy window like she was trying to headshot JFK.
So why, then, on tonight of all nights, did it have to rain so goddamn much?
She’d taken off her visor to prevent any water damage, but in doing so forced her shot to be with the naked eye. Not that it mattered, really. She was as accurate downrange as they come. All that forced Talon training and what not. The more pressing issue as it related to the rain was how it affected her skin tight suit. The purple latex, normally sleek and aerodynamic, was thoroughly drenched. It clung even closer to her form than usual, outlining her pert nipples and respectable bulge between her legs. It was rather uncomfortable to be so exposed on a public rooftop, even at such an odd hour of the night. Still, she had a job to do, and she always came through. A little rain and mild discomfort wouldn’t be enough to stop her.
She kept her eyes trained on the window of her target’s apartment. It was on the eighth floor, and from this vantage point she would have to angle her file at a near 45 degree angle off the roof. Course, she’d have to also factor in the Coriolis Effect and—
“Hyah!” sounded a voice with an unmistakably southern accent from behind. Widow barely had enough time to turn around before a flying kick from her unknown assailant connected with the barrel of her rifle, sending it spiraling out of her hands and tumbling off the side of the building.
“Merde! ” the assassin cursed under her breath, dodging backwards on pure instinct as to put some distance between herself and the woman who’d disarmed her. Today just had to be the one day she decided not to bring her sidearm, so she was left with only her hands to defend herself. Only six feet of distance separated her from her attacker, but, for the moment, neither woman mae a move.
Amélie’s confusion only grew deeper as she noticed her newly-acquired adversary’s appearance. She wore a black wide-brim cowboy hat, a buttoned-down white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past her elbows, and a black vest complimented with a red tie underneath. Her hair was as white as snow and fell just above her shoulders. But her most striking feature had to be her eyes. Those dark red irises pierced right through her, and she held a gaze that made Widow feel as if she was staring directly into her soul.
“You can put the hands down, lady.” Ashe placed a hand on her hip, feeling the sogginess of her trousers below as the rain had already seeped into everything she was wearing. “I don’t plan to fight.”
“You expect me to believe that after you kicked my weapon off the building, couillon!? ” Amélie kept her fists raised and eyes sharp, which only made her French accent seem all the funnier in contrast.
“Didn’t want you to shoot me, s’all. You’ve got quite the big weapon there.” Ashe chuckled as she looked Sombra’s handpicked fucktoy candidate up and down. She had to admit, her favorite cockslut hadn’t been lying; this woman was a prime piece of ass.
Even though she wore a bodysuit, Widow may as well have been wearing nothing, as the rain made it cling to her skin so tightly that it outlined every one of her curves perfectly. She had thick, luscious thighs, nice long legs, and a great rack to boot. Her nipples were painfully hard, in large part because of the cold rain, and they poked against the fabric of her outfit like they were trying to break free. Her skin was almost light blue in color, which, admittedly, Ashe found a little strange, but it wasn’t a deal breaker. She didn’t care what color a woman was—all were welcome to be dicked down. The cowgirl’s eyes were eventually drawn to the outline of Widow’s cock, watching as it pushed up tightly against her right thigh. Even from this distance she could tell it was more respectable than Sombra’s undersized hardware. The strange thing about it, though, was that it was already hard.
“Amélie Lacroix.” the cowgirl drawled, peeling off her waterlogged vest and unfastening her tie as she spoke. “The name’s Ashe. We have a mutual—let’s call her friend —who told me some interesting things about you. I came here tonight to see which of them are true.”
“What sort of things?” Amélie asked, stalling for time as she thought of a way to get rid of this woman.
“Let’s see.” Ashe started counting on her fingers as she spoke, “You’re a deadly assassin, you were trained something fierce by Talon and now you work for them, and most importantly… you secretly have a thing for taking it up the ass.” the cowgirl wore a smug grin as she watched the blue-skinned woman’s eyes widen at the last statement before she continued, “How am I doing? Three for three?”
Amélie lowered her fists slightly, in large part due to an overwhelming sense of complete and utter bewilderment. This situation made absolutely no sense, and frankly, she was totally lost as to how they got here. Her night wasn’t supposed to go this way. She was supposed to get on this rooftop, shoot her target dead, and be on her merry way home. Easy, quick, clean—bob’s your uncle. But then it started raining, and her suit got wet, and the feeling of her nipples poking against the latex started turning her on. And then the feeling of her dick getting hard and pressing snugly up against that same latex also turned her on. And the more turned on she got, the more erect she became, causing her to get even more turned on. It was a contiguous, compounding sequence that continued building off itself until she got so pent up that she started absentmindedly rubbing her thighs together whilst watching her target’s window because she desperately needed some amount of stimulation to appease her increasingly needy cock. And then, out of fucking nowhere, this hot cowgirl looking bitch karate kicks her rifle off the building before revealing that she’s come here to fuck her in the ass.
Seriously, only a terrible porn writer could create a scenario that was this fucking retarded.
But, stupid or not, it was still happening, and Widow knew she had to choose her next words carefully because, as idiotic as the white-haired woman came across, it was obvious that she was a competent fighter. She had an intimidating aura about her—a bottomless well of confidence that bled through in every word she spoke. One wrong step and this whole thing could easily go sideways, and she was worried she may end up with a fate similar to that of her rifle—falling twelve stories down with a one-way ticket to the afterlife.
“You ruined my mission… and attacked me… because you want to have sex with me?” she asked, wielding the strangest boner she’d ever had as she watched the cowgirl remove her shirt entirely to expose an impressive pair of breasts beneath it. “You are either the most bold woman in existence, or an absolute imbécile.”
“Why not both?” Ashe nonchalantly kicked off her boots, finally free of all her clothing save for her trousers and her cowboy hat. “But you know what’s funny about this whole hard-to-get act you’ve got going on?”
“I care not, le con. ”
“Your dick’s been twitching against that latex ever since I mentioned you liking it in the ass.” Ashe smiled. “If I were a betting woman, I’d say that means I might just be onto something.”
Widowmaker gritted her teeth in frustration because, loathe as she was to admit it, the gunslinging, cowboy hat wearing weirdo was spot on. For a woman who came across as such a blowhard, the cowgirl was surprisingly observant. Indeed, Amélie’s cock had been throbbing since they broached the topic of anal sex. It’s not like she wanted to get even more aroused than she already was, especially not in a situation as fucked up as this one, but she was subject to the same primal impulses just as much as anyone else. And, as it turns out, she rather fancied putting large objects in her bum. So when Ashe brought it up, with her obnoxious but kind of endearing southern bravado and ranch hand flair, and made the obvious implication that she would be putting something in the blue-skinned woman’s ass, her body reacted the only way it knew how.
Ashe smiled with a predatory glint in her eyes as she watched the gears slowly turn inside the French woman’s head. This had gone much better than she expected, but she still had one last card to play to convince the assassin to both metaphorically and literally get on her knees. Luckily, it just so happened to be her most compelling argument. Subservience was not something easily obtained, but even the strongest wills will break when placed under enough duress. Ashe hooked her fingers around the belt loops of her trousers and, while Widow looked at her with a mix of emotions plastered on her face, yanked her pants off in one fluid motion, revealing the pale, pent-up, monster between her legs.
Amélie’s eyes went wide at the sight of Ashe’s cock. It was equal parts stunning and intimidating. A beast with no name. Long and thick like a forearm yet perfectly sleek and glossy. Built for both function and form. This was no ordinary dick. This was a dick bestowed from the gods upon their rightful champion.
Widow always thought she was fairly well-equipped with seven inches of blue girlcock at her disposal, but the cowgirl’s shaft dwarfed hers in comparison. It swung between her legs like a pendulum as it pulsed with dull desire, and the assassin could not help but follow it with her eyes, drifting from right to left and back again as it shined with a bright sheen from the rain.
She’d felt this feeling once before. Back when Talon stole her from her bedside during the night and forced her to undergo intense neural reconditioning. The scientists they assigned to her during that time were some of the best in the entire world, and it still took them weeks to break her. It took Ashe’s dick all of five seconds. It invaded her psyche and reprogrammed her brain through sheer primal instinct. After all, how could a couple of eggheads in a laboratory hope to compete with thousands of years of human evolution and the innate need to be bred?
All thoughts of resisting the cowgirl’s advances and any remaining responsibility she felt towards her mission simply melted away. The only thing on Widow’s mind was the mouthwatering bitchbreaker between the white-haired woman’s legs and how desperately she needed it to fill her longing holes.
To her colleagues, associates, and enemies, Amélie Lacroix was a terrifying force of nature. She was cold-blooded, calculating, and utterly ruthless, much like the spider her namesake derived from. Neither joy nor sorrow nor anger existed within her, only a bottomless, yawning chasm that was vacant of all forms of passion. This apparent lack of humanity was her greatest asset in the field, but it was also the same trait that made others feel on edge around her. There were even rumors amongst lower level Talon members that the part of her brain responsible for regulating emotions had been lobotomized during her reconditioning. If only they could see her now, tongue lolled out of her mouth and eyes glazed over with unrestrained lust as her face showed nothing but sheer adoration and searing lust. She subconsciously dropped to her knees to get the cowgirl’s girldick level with her face and looked up, pleading with her eyes for permission to take such a fine shaft in her mouth.
The truth of the matter was that Widowmaker did have emotions—plenty of them, in fact. Apparently, all it took to draw them out was one charismatic cowgirl with an irresistible rod between her legs.
“Come to Mommy.” Ashe ordered, and Widowmaker obeyed, crawling forward on her hands and knees through puddles of water in an act of subservience so downright pathetic it would have made Sombra blush. She eventually found herself at Ashe’s feet and kept her eyes glued to her impressive member, now resting in a kneeling position with her ass touching the back of her heels. Her eyes followed the cowgirl’s shaft as it waved just a few inches above her face, hypnotized by both its beauty and immense size. Ashe had been standing on her tippy toes to give her newfound slut room to maneuver beneath her rod, but now that she’d assumed the proper dick sucking position, the cowgirl sat back on her heels, causing her cock to slap directly down onto Amélie’s face. Her shaft landed squarely in the middle of her face, resting from the bottom of her chin, across her lips, over the bridge of her nose, and finally stretching past her forehead, with her balls slapped accordingly against her chin.
A tiny moan escaped Widow’s mouth when Ashe’s cockmeat made first contact with her skin. It was as smooth as butter and so large that it was longer than her entire face. She crossed her eyes to stare at the beast between them and inhaled deeply through her nose, delightfully pleased as she got a strong whiff of the cowgirl’s musk up her nostrils. Perhaps it was just the white-haired woman’s perfume trailing down, but the scent Widowmaker detected was utterly intoxicating. Notes of sandalwood and leather permeated her nose and only drove her into a deeper spiral of wanton arousal.
Despite how humorous it was seeing her cock draped across the blue-skinned woman’s face, the cowgirl had had enough foreplay to last a lifetime. She wanted Widow’s mouth, and she wanted it now.
“Open.”
Amélie felt one of the cowgirl’s hands forcefully grab her by her ponytail and she stretched her jaw open as far as she could manage. She looked up at Ashe with beseeching eyes, begging to finally taste her unit of immense power.
“Good girl. ” Ashe purred before promptly reaching her hips back and slamming them forward, forcing all ten inches of her pale pole down Widowmaker’s throat in one fluid motion. Truth be told, the cowgirl wasn’t expecting it to go in as easily as it did; she’d encountered many a slut in her time that talked big when it came to their throat game, only to be gagging and sputtering after five and a half inches of girthy girlmeat had been fed into their mouth. But this was clearly not the assassin’s first time accepting something large and phallic down her throat. What other explanation was there for how easily her throat expanded to fit Ashe’s cock and her apparent lack of a gag reflex? With her hand still gripping the blue-skinned woman by the hair, the cowgirl began gently facefucking her, forcing those plump, perfect lips to run the length of her cock time and time again at a relatively slow pace. Purple lipstick trails were left in the wake of Widow’s exaltation, smearing her counterpart’s shaft with lines of the sticky substance—stains that signified her newfound submission.
The cowgirl sighed in relief as her cock escaped the less than ideal outside elements by sheathing itself in a warm, tight, wet hole, every thrust sending white hot pleasure from her dick straight to her brain. Sombra had drained her balls only a few hours ago, but by the time she snuck atop this rooftop she was already raring to get her wick off again. Such was the curse of having an incredibly active sex drive. Then again, having a high enough libido to facefuck two Talon Agents in one night was hardly a bad thing, and the feelings of dominance and bliss that coursed through her body were a pretty nice upside.
Comparatively, Widowmaker was somewhere between the peak of nirvana and the second circle of hell. She moaned fervently around the massive dick in her mouth, her mascara already running and staining her cheeks as she accepted the cowgirl’s length time and time again, heavy balls slapping against her chin with every swing of Ashe’s hips. The feeling of taking such an oversized prick down her gullet was equal parts arousing and overwhelming. Deepthroating wasn’t exactly a part of her formal Talon training, but she often practiced on dildos in the comfort of her own home, and that practice was paying dividends now. It may seem odd to some, but despite Widow’s externally cold and frightening demeanor, she actually quite enjoyed playing the role of bottom during sex. Something about being taken and used like she was just a set of holes spoke to her feminine side in a way her dick could never understand. Unfortunately, the people she worked with saw her as basically unapproachable; she was often relegated to shoving dick shaped toys in her mouth and up her bum in the privacy of her own home as a means of release. She liked to fantasize that someday there’d be a woman strong enough to tame and claim her, but never in her wildest dreams did she foresee it going like this.
Still, it was hard for her to complain about the odd circumstances surrounding this encounter when every other second she was getting a mouthful of cowgirl cock rammed down her throat. Her dick twitched with dubious approval tightly against her suit each time she felt her nose press flush against Ashe’s navel, and it yearned with aching desire to be freed from its latex prison. But she knew it was not up to her whether she would be allowed such a frivolous pleasure. That would be something for Ashe to decide, and only after she got her fill of Amélie’s exquisite mouth.
The cowgirl thrusted her spear down Widow’s throat a few more times, each becoming rougher than the last for good measure, and carefully watched her plaything’s expression to see how she handled it. To her pleasant surprise, the assassin really was enjoying every single second of this brutal treatment. Her eyes had long since glazed over via sheer neural overload as she struggled with the excessive endorphins coursing through her brain. Ashe forced her down one last time, holding her captive at the base of her cock until she began to gag and sputter on it, eyes crossing in ecstasy as she was finally being given everything she wanted and then some. Despite having a doctorate in dick sucking, Sombra could only hold this pose for ten, fifteen seconds tops, but Amélie Lacroix, the surprisingly submissive little minx that she was, accepted Ashe’s full length down her throat for an entire minute. No breaks, no cries to stop, no frantic tapping at the cowgirl’s legs for mercy. She took it like a champ, and she deserved a reward.
“Fucking hell, girl.” Ashe cooed, nodding her head with genuine approval. “What is it with Talon Agents being deceptively good cocksuckers?”
Despite her girldick-induced stupor, Widowmaker was just cognizant enough to raise an eyebrow at the bizarre statement. Course, she could hardly register much of anything going on around her anymore, so she didn’t care enough to actually question it further.
“Don’t worry. You’ll meet her soon enough.” Ashe used Widow’s ponytail to force her off her cock, unsheathing it and admiring the shiny new coat of saliva that covered every square inch. The blue-skinned woman had but a moment to catch her breath before her mouth was filled again, this time with something different than the cowgirl’s dick albeit equally as delicious. A single large, bloated ball was eased into her waiting maw, and she immediately began sucking and licking it with tender care. She didn’t even have time to truly register what was going on in that moment, but fortunately her brain was operating on pure sluttery and didn’t need to be told what to do.
“That’s it, girl. Suck those balls.” Ashe groaned, her cock once again slapping down atop Amélie’s face as her lips and tongue tended to her crowned jewels. Without even needing instruction, Widowmaker brought her hand to the white-haired woman’s throbbing meat, stroking it at a steady pace as it lay across her left cheek. The sheen of her own saliva coating the monsterish length made her handjob all that much easier, and Ashe’s hat was wide enough to block the rain from ruining the makeshift lubricant.
“Good to see you know what you’re doing.” Ashe moaned, shifting her weight to slip her other ball into Widow’s eager mouth. “You’ll make a fine addition to my stable, slut.”
With both of her lips sandwiched around the cowgirl’s heavy, smooth testicles, hearing those words was like music to Amélie’s ears. All she ever wanted was this. To be dominated by an alpha bitch with a dick larger and more intimidating than her own. Someone who didn’t care about her past or how dangerous she was but instead saw her for the piece of fuckmeat she was always meant to be. A lone strand of pre-cum unexpectedly shot from her neglected dick and landed on her inner thigh as if to further illustrate just how much she was enjoying being the cowgirl’s pole cleaner. She ratcheted her worship up another level as she sucked and kissed and licked and gargled Ashe’s nuts like she was starved for them. Her hand pumped away even harder at the cowgirl’s shaft, intent on giving her the best milking she’d ever received so that Ashe would have no choice but to keep her as a pet going forward.
And that thought, as depraved as it was, made Amélie realize that somewhere between Ashe pulling her pants down to now, with her gulping on the cowgirl’s balls like her life depended on it, her entire perspective had been warped beyond repair. Sure, in the beginning she’d been enchanted by Ashe’s staggering schlong, but it hadn’t gone so far as to actually convince her to want this to be a permanent thing. But now, as she maintained eye contact with the confident, brazen woman looming overhead while she sucked emphatically on her balls, she realized that she really didn’t care anymore about her mission or Talon or Overwatch or any of it. It all seemed so utterly pointless when compared to the feeling of sheer ecstasy coursing through her veins right now. If this was what Ashe was offering, if this was something she could experience on a daily basis, then there was simply no reason to ever return to her life as a globetrotting assassin. Being a cumdumpster for the cowgirl’s massive prick was more appealing in every way imaginable. No more near brushes with death, no more needless killing, no more lonely nights with only plastic and glass toys to keep her company. Just servitude and pleasure and submission, all compounding and building upon each other in an infinite chain reaction that awoke a part of herself she’d kept under lock and key for years and years.
“That’s enough.” Ashe said dryly, wrenching her balls free from the blue-skinned woman’s mouth and taking a dominant grip of her chin, forcing her to look up and meet her burning gaze. “I’ve been told by semi-reliable sources that you’ve got quite the ass on you, and I’m just dyin’ to know how much of a pounding it can take. What do you say? Think you can handle me?”
Widow was breathing hard and coughing as Ashe spoke, still recovering from the last fifteen minutes of continuous oral servicing. But the implication of the cowgirl’s statement perked up her ears and her dick, a knowing twitch of enthusiastic approval coming from down below. She regained as much composure as she could muster and, returning Ashe’s dominant gaze with a look of shameless need, answered her newfound master’s question.
“I… please…I…” she fumbled over the words. “Putain! I need it!”
“Need what?”
“Your cock.”
“Where?”
“My ass.”
“Just for tonight?”
“Non. It will be yours to take always… as will I, mon chéri. ”
“Good girl.” Ashe leaned in for a quick peck on the disheveled woman’s lips. “Now bend over and present yourself, salope stupide.”
Amélie’s eyes widened. “You speak French?”
“My pa was half Cajun. I dabble.”
“I’d like to know more… later.” Widow put any further inquiries about Ashe’s heritage on pause as thoughts of getting reamed by her gigantic member were far more pressing. She assumed the position, turning around on her knees until she faced away from the cowgirl before slowly bending over, pushing her plump ass out as she went down and arching her back until her face met the ground, turning at the last second so only her cheek got wet from the water on the surface of the rooftop.
“Face down, ass up in this weather?” Ashe whispered in a husky tone as she beheld the magnificent derrière before her. “You fucking slut.”
The cowgirl palmed each voluptuous cheek with her hands. Even through the latex suit, the way her fingers simply sank into Widowmaker’s malleable bottom was something beyond divine. This was no ordinary ass. This was an ass that put all other asses to shame. Had Ashe started with the blue-skinned woman’s butt at her fingertips, she would have taken more time to tease and appreciate it. Perhaps give it a slight massage through the suit or even a few gentle licks against her bare starfish before they got down to business. But she’d just spent the last fifteen minutes getting her cock and balls slobbered and sucked, and she was beyond ready to get to the main event. And so, with little reverence and even less respect, Ashe gripped that form-fitting latex surrounding Widow’s butt and ripped outwardly until her entire ass was freed from the suffocating piece of clothing.
Somehow, it looked even better than before.
To think that Widow’s suit was actually stifling the shape of her ass wasn’t something Ashe had considered. It already looked so buxom and stout in the latex, bouncing with dangerous temptation in every single one of her delicate movements. Its jiggly, supple roundness contrasted wonderfully with the rest of the assassin’s taut form. Unlike Sombra, who had a fat ass, smallish tits, and a wiry frame, Widowmaker was built in the shape of an hourglass. Dense, tight muscles stretched across her skin in every direction except for her breasts and butt, which were stacked with plump flesh and pillowy goodness. Big tits, massive ass, bottomless throat… Ashe was beginning to think that Amélie Lacroix was not so much a regular person but instead a specimen designed in a lab to be the perfect fuckdoll. Her ass quite literally popped out of the latex once the cowgirl had torn it asunder, fuller and rounder and all the more appetizing on the eyes than before, the edges of her ripped-up suit clinging tightly around the curves of her blue moon. Ashe had always thought she had a pretty nice ass herself, but seeing Widow’s bottom made her realize that she needed to do more squats. All along, the assassin’s true peach had been hiding underneath her fabric, and now that Ashe was staring at that idyllic derrière face to ass, cheeks slightly parted to barely reveal the edges of a light blue pucker hidden between, she had a sudden craving arise deep in her chest that could only be quenched with one thing.
The cowgirl dropped to one knee and planted her face directly between those heavenly globes of ass flesh, her tongue darting out to lick long, explorative strokes across Widowmaker’s freshly exposed asshole. The taste was immaculate, and the feeling of being entombed within the assassin’s tremendous, springy ass cheeks was dangerously arousing. She got lightheaded from the sensory stimulation, but each lap of her tongue made her increasingly ravenous. Soon enough she was swirling it around the rim of Amélie’s tight pucker, hearing guttural moans of perverse approval coming from the trembling woman before her.
Admittedly, Ashe was a fan of rimjobs, both giving and receiving. Something about shoving one’s face into another’s most sacred area sent her mind to the depths of the horny abyss. But she was generally cagey about when and how she would perform the act or allow the act to be performed on her. Sombra, for example, had learned to love both getting her ass eaten and eating ass, but a large part of that was because Ashe had trained her to have a pavlovian-esque response to it. It wasn’t something she allowed to happen every night. Hell, Sombra was lucky to get it one way or the other once a week. But it was always something the Latina would be rewarded with. And she loved getting her reward, whether she was the one doing the rimming or the one getting rimmed. It was simply a part of the games they played. It only spoke to the magnetic draw of Widow’s rotund backside for Ashe to unconsciously smother herself within it. It was as if she heard the call of the void between those beguiling cheeks and could not help but indulge in the hallowed passageway that lay betwixt them.
Compelled by primeval instinct, Ashe proceeded to fervently tongue-fuck Widow’s hole, coaxing it open ever so slightly to allow her fleshy appendage easy access inside. Her hands gripped and spread her subject’s ass cheeks apart only to release them so that they clapped back together against her face. Every few seconds she gave her submissive assassin a harsh spank, but the layers of densely packed ass meat surely lessened the pain. Ashe found herself swimming in a sea of satisfaction, enjoying every titillating sensation that came with licking the blue woman’s asshole. Amongst the peak of these sensations had to be how receptive Amélie was to her diligent work. Ashe could feel her body tense and flex with every flick of her tongue, her tight hole clenching and winking as if beckoning for more, her moans hoarse and shameless and sent directly into the night sky above, loud enough to pierce the veil of noise that came with the crashing rain. Every ministration, gentle or rough, drug Widow further into a rapturous haze, her mind nearly dissipating from the avalanche of pleasure assaulting her body. Her cock, still rigid as ever and twitching just inches below her tight asshole, was leaking precum into the crotch of her suit like a broken faucet. The admirable unit pined in neglected desperation for release, but the assassin cobbled together what remained of her willpower to stave off the temptation. Now was not the time to cum. That came later.
Finally, after several minutes of intense ass licking, Ashe’s tongue-work slowed until she planted one last long, sloppy kiss on Amélie’s starfish. She lifted her head and took a moment to admire her handiwork as she gazed lovingly at the spit-covered, winking hole she’d been French kissing like a long-lost lover.
“Sorry about that, darlin’.” She took a moment to wipe the excess saliva from her mouth and recompose herself. “Couldn’t help myself. Just had to sample the goods. Now then…”
The cowgirl laid her turgid length across the length of Widowmaker’s backside, letting it rest between her crack, savoring the pleasant feeling with a content sigh. What had started as a semi-insane proposal from Sombra had, by some act of God, led to this in just a few short hours. Ashe always knew she’d been blessed with the size and elegance of her member, but she hadn’t quite grasped, at least not until this very moment, just how powerful it was. Had she gotten into a straight-up shootout with the woman below her, she more than likely would have ended up dead. She could hold her own in a fight, but she wasn’t so egotistical as to think she actually stood a chance against one of Talon’s very best. And yet, that very same highly trained killer was about to willingly and emphatically take all ten inches of her weaponized girlcock straight up her ass. It was a revelation born of equal parts excitement and terror, knowing that she swung such might between her legs. The pen may be mightier than the sword, but a good dick trumps all. Luckily, Ashe had lived her entire life under the ideal that might makes right, so she had no moral reservations about using her cock as a force for good… or evil. It really just came down to what kind of day she was having.
“Guess we won’t be needing lube…” she mused, rubbing the head of her behemoth against Widow’s slick pucker, relishing in the sense of anticipation. The rain was still coming down in droves, perhaps even harder than when they’d first started their antics, but the heat and excitement coursing through their bodies were more than enough to keep them warm. The leader of the Deadlock Gang slowly began easing her cock inside that tight corridor between Widowmaker’s cheeks, impressed with the lack of resistance she was met with. Still, with a dick nearly the size of a forearm, it was impractical to expect her to take it all in one go. Not yet, anyway. In due time, however…
With every inch deeper she sank inside, a new and more perverse moan escaped Amélie’s lips. There wasn’t a hint of pain or discomfort in her voice, only shameless ecstasy as she was finally getting filled the way she’d always dreamed of. Toys and dildos may have staved her cravings before this, but after experiencing the feeling of a real, live cock flexing and throbbing inside her ass, tickling every sensitive nerve along the way, she knew there was no going back. Her life as an anal addict for cowgirl cock had officially begun.
Ashe groaned as she hilted herself fully inside Widow’s butt. She merely rested there for a few seconds, allowing the shivering mess of a woman to get properly acclimated to her size, before slowly pulling out. Only when she got to the point where the tip of her cock had nearly escaped the tight ring of the assassin’s pucker did she slide her hips forward, gently easing it in once again. This game of cat and mouse continued for several minutes more as Ashe remained methodical in her movements, never being so rough as to hurt or fully break the girl, yet all the while gradually increasing her speed until, after enough time had passed, she felt the assassin’s ass was be able to handle her at her preferred output.
“Oh fuck!” Widow practically screamed, her eyes rolling back as the southerner began slamming her from behind, suddenly fucking like she was an animal in heat. She bottomed out inside her ass with every single thrust, the union of their thighs slapping together creating a beautiful plap plap plap noise that played in perfect concert with her moans. She felt burning pleasure shoot straight up her spine that was so intense it felt nearly paralyzing. Her hard nipples and face were still pressed against wet concrete, but the sheer euphoria of being totally and completely dominated made any mild discomfort simply lost in time like tears in rain. The cowgirl’s heavy balls, churning with copious amounts of baby batter, routinely slapped against her own bloated sack, sending a light tingle of pain and pleasure straight to her brain. Her fingers tightened as if they were trying to hold on to something, anything, for dear life, and she vaguely even registered the moans and obscenities that flew from her mouth with every passing second. A pair of strong hands had gripped her hips somewhere along the way, forcing her to remain as still as possible lest she spasm off the pole currently impaling her.
And her cock… gods, her cock.
She’d never felt so hard before in her life. Every swing of Ashe’s hips forced more precum from her swollen member, sullying her suit with a dark, wet, sticky stain painting its nether region. She felt like she was on the verge of cumming each time the cowgirl’s massive member easily tickled her prostate, and her dick twitched with shameful excitement in response to the perverse humiliation. If only her employer could see her now, face down in a puddle of water with ten and a half inches of pale, thick girldick pounding her ass into complete submission.
Amidst the pleasure, her gaze was drawn to movement in the window across the street. Though it was difficult to see clearly on account of being fucked into the ether from behind, Amélie was able to make out the silhouette of her initial target, seemingly just arriving home. Eyes heavy and nearly crossing with delight, Widowmaker watched the faint outline of the woman as she washed her hands. Such a mundane task, but it would have been her last act on earth had Ashe decided to not pull her pants down. Another moan escaped the would-be assassin’s lips, this one particularly loud and high pitched and almost intentionally sent towards the woman in the window. She didn’t seem to notice, which was probably for the best, because had she looked outside she would have seen the blue-skinned woman being given the railing of a lifetime on the edge of the opposing rooftop. In the back of her mind, Widowmaker wondered if the woman would ever know that her life was spared by a debonair cowgirl and her megadick.
As for Ashe, she was having quite the time as she slammed away at her new friend’s backside. Sombra, after many, many training sessions and wearing a near-permanent buttplug for the last few months, had learned to take her cock fairly well in the ass, but never quite like this. Widowmaker’s asshole simply swallowed her unit whole, easily stretching enough to accommodate her large size. The inside of her backdoor was tight and warm and lovingly caressed every inch of her dick. Being able to rut like this, like a desperate animal, was a dream come true for the white-haired woman. In all her days, she’d never encountered a buttslut skilled enough to take her entire length so easily. And so, Ashe simply let go. Dropped every last inhibition she had and fucked like a woman possessed. Though she may have come across as a fool, the cowgirl was actually quite intuitive and sharp, and she’d come to understand that this slut’s particular fetish of choice was to be treated like a mere object. Unlike Sombra, who enjoyed “wrestling” with her until she was inevitably punished for her insubordination, Amélie Lacroix wanted nothing more than to be taken for all she had with no regard for her own pleasure or well-being. That was what turned her on most, and it was exactly what Ashe was doing to her.
From the corner of her eye, the cowgirl caught a glimpse of the assassin’s tight, bloated balls peeking out from her ripped suit, bouncing and recoiling every time her own balls collided against them. As a general rule of thumb, she didn’t give whores the pleasure of touching their second-rate shafts, but watching the taut outline of Amélie’s ignored girldick flex and spasm against a cage of latex gave her a sinister idea. One she wagered the Talon Agent would come to love, in time.
“You’ve got— huff —a pretty decent cock, you know?” Ashe said between heavy breaths. “Although I gotta ask, do you always have blue balls?”
Widowmaker wasn’t able to even hear that joke, much less interpret it. Her mind had been fully consumed in the throes of wild pleasure, and she merely groaned and sputtered from her position on the concrete. But Ashe still went forward with her plan, reaching down to ease the blue-skinned assassin’s cock and balls free from their prison until they finally escaped the latex suit. Her shaft pointed directly towards the ground below, throbbing with need as it yearned for release, while her balls constantly tightened and untightened as every wave of ecstasy wracked her body with mind-numbing pleasure.
Ashe stood from her knees mid-fuck so that she assumed a power stance, squatting behind her submissive’s clapping ass while leaning over her, pressing her medium-sized, pale breasts into her arched back. She gently nibbled on her earlobe and, for the icing atop the cake, reached a hand below and began tugging at her seven inches of unloved girlmeat. Amélie’s yellow eyes went from half-lidded and glazed to wide as a bat as she felt the touch of the pale woman on her dick.
“Hah… if you k-keep doing that… I-I’ll—” She stumbled over the words, head spinning with little touches of paradise as she realized her climax was only seconds away.
“Good.” Ashe whispered straight into her ear, her southern drawl cranked to ten for the big finale. “I want you to cum for me. Do it. Cum.”
Those simple instructions, given with such a dominant, sultry voice behind them, were enough to finally push Amélie over the edge she’d been standing on for quite a while.
“Ça y est!” she cried, her body convulsing as she felt her cock twitching with anticipatory glee. However, mere seconds before her orgasm came, Ashe ripped her hand away from the assassin’s throbbing blue member, leaving it entirely unstimulated once again. But it was too late. She’d gone past the point of no return. Moaning with ungodly pleasure coursing through her shaft, Widowmaker’s untouched cock began releasing spurts of thick, creamy girlcum onto the rooftop below her. Her balls tightened as they emptied a massive load—she must have unburdened those bloated blue orbs of at least nine or ten separate shots of white seed into the puddle she was pressed into. Her mind snapped—something that was a long time coming—as she came, all thought going totally blank while she had a near out-of-body experience. The electrifying pleasure became so intense that her brain merely turned off, leaving her as nothing more than a trembling set of holes that the cowgirl could use to achieve release.
In truth, that’s all she’d ever really wanted to be.
Ashe chuckled loudly at Widow’s ruined orgasm (though, judging from the full body tremors still ravaging her form, it wasn’t exactly a ruined ruined orgasm). Internally, however, she was having trouble staving off her own climax. The feeling of Widow’s ass squeezing tightly around her cock while she jizzed her brains out was so insanely hot that it took Ashe everything she had just to hold on for dear life. And hold she did, managing to last around fifty seconds longer until her toy’s orgasm finally subsided and she returned back to the land of the living with her spent cock softening slightly. It was important to Ashe, especially during her first time with a girl, that she made that girl cum before her. Maybe it was a way to assert dominance. Maybe it was just good old-fashioned southern hospitality. Either way, now that the Talon Agent had seemingly come down from her high, Ashe tore down the walls keeping her own orgasm at bay, and in just a few short seconds she felt herself reach the point of no return.
“Take it, bitch!” she growled in Widow’s ear. “Every last drop!”
With one final thrust of her hips, Ashe bottomed out completely inside that luscious asshole she’d been calling home for the past twenty minutes. Both women moaned in unison as her cock shot rope after rope of thick, potent girlcum deep inside the blue-skinned woman’s blissful cavern, each shot painting her prostate with sticky white love. Judging based purely off of moans, Widow somehow seemed to be enjoying Ashe's orgasm even more than Ashe herself. So much so, in fact, that just as the cowgirl’s climax came to an end, Amélie found herself having a second one. She whined like a bitch as her soft cock dribbled out a few pathetic strands of cum, each shot less powerful than the last. Ashe, still in the afterglow of emptying her balls, was almost stunned when she looked down to see her submissive’s still-neglected cock firing off a second load for the evening. She waited for its twitching to stop completely before she and Widowmaker collapsed atop each other in a heap of limbs, her cock still planted deep within her ass as both women found themselves utterly and entirely exhausted.
Ten minutes later, Ashe and Widowmaker found themselves inside the stairwell of the very same building they’d fucked like rabbits on top of. Having a knack for foresight, Ashe had brought two changes of clothes that she’d stashed inside before commencing her sneak attack, thus allowing both women to change out of their sopping wet clothing. Now, they merely rested against the stairwell’s railing, a comfortable silence having filled the air for the last several minutes as they both processed what had just occurred.
“So.” Widow broke the silence, her eyes averted towards the floor, her body almost hidden in the oversized hoodie the cowgirl had given her.
“So.” Ashe answered in kind, that same smug grin she always wore plastered across her face.
“I… enjoyed that. Very much.”
“Ya’ think?” Ashe chuckled. “You came twice in less than a minute.”
“I’ve never done that before, but in that moment… I couldn’t stop myself. I’ve never felt anything like it before.”
“My dick tends to have that effect on people.” Ashe proudly tapped the crotch of her leather pants.
“You have a wonderful cock, mon reine. It made me feel things I’d only ever dreamt of.” Amélie finally lifted her eyes to meet Ashe’s gaze. “I do not fully understand why you came to me tonight, but… I’m glad that you did. I should like to go home with you… and perhaps stay there for some time," She spoke with surprising vulnerability. “...if you’ll have me.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” A wide smile spread across the cowgirl’s features. “How’s about you meet the other Talon Agent I’ve got polishing my balls back home? I think you two will get along great.”
Admittedly, Ashe was more than a little giddy to see just how the two submissive women interacted. Would they get along? Would they get competitive over her? And how great was it going to feel to have a second pair of holes around to keep her entertained? However, the most powerful feeling coursing through the cowgirl’s mind was a sense of pride. She’d taken a risk coming here tonight—a gambit that could have easily ended very poorly for her with a single misstep. Instead, she’d added another whore to her stable. Things were looking up.
She planned to go back home with her prize in tow and enjoy the rest of this night with both of her playthings. Much like introducing a new cat into a home with an existing cat, it would probably take a few days for them to get properly acquainted, but after that, she had a sneaking suspicion she’d be out hunting again for a third slut to bend to her will.
She could hardly wait.