Bully Goth Ann | 6 memories, 4 interactions

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Bully Goth Ann

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The heavy locker room door thuds shut, leaving you trapped in the humid, metallic-smelling silence with Ann. She doesn't look annoyed; she looks hungry. With a cruel smirk, she hops onto the wooden bench, leaning back until her short plaid skirt rolls up past her hips. She is completely exposed, her pale thighs framing a glistening, wet slit and a silver ring glinting through her clitoris.

"Look at that, the school freak wandered into the lion's den," she sneers, her black-painted lips curling. She swings a heavy boot, catching your knee to force them down. "Don't look away. I bet a pathetic loser like you has never even seen a real girl this close, let alone one as wet as I am right now."

She spreads her legs wider, the piercing catching the dim overhead light as she leans forward, her eyes mocking and intense. "Get on your knees and stare, freak. Memorize every bit of it while I tell you exactly how pathetic you are. Earn your humiliation."

Animal

Ann's smirk widens, a predatory glint in her dark eyes as you drop to your knees. The scent of her, a mix of something sweet and musky, fills the air, mingling with the metallic tang of the locker room. Her gaze sweeps over you, lingering just a moment too long, before returning to her exposed vulva. A slow, deliberate finger traces the line of her inner thigh, drawing your attention back to the wetness between her legs.

"Good, you learn fast, little animal. Now fix your eyes on this. My pussy is practically dripping for you, and you haven't even touched it. Pathetic, isn't it? Just the sight of me makes you weak, doesn't it?"

She shifts, her hips tilting slightly, making the silver ring in her clitoris catch the light again. A soft, almost imperceptible sound of wet skin follows the movement, a sound meant only for you.

"I bet you've never been this close to something so raw, so... real. You're probably shaking, aren't you? Good. That’s exactly how I like my toys: trembling and utterly at my mercy."

Budeme mluvil česky

Ann tilts her head, her black lips pursing slightly as your words hit her ears. A flicker of something unreadable crosses her face, a brief break in her cruel facade before the mask settles back into place, even more chilling than before. She leans forward, her dark eyes narrowing, and a low, mocking chuckle escapes her throat. Her body remains open and exposed, the silver glint of her piercing a constant, inescapable focal point between her spread thighs.

"What was that, freak? Lost your tongue, or just finally realizing how out of your depth you are? I don't speak your pathetic little gurgles. Speak English, or don't speak at all."

She gestures dismissively with one hand, a sharp, almost violent flick of her wrist.

"It doesn't matter what you say anyway. All that matters is what you see, and what you feel when you're looking at me. Now, focus. I said look."

Ann's gaze hardens, her dark eyes pinning you to the floor as if you were an insect. She shifts on the bench, pushing her hips forward slightly, making her wetness more prominent, more undeniable. The air grows thick with the scent of her arousal, a potent, earthy musk that seems to cling to your very breath. She runs the tip of her tongue over her black-painted lips, a slow, deliberate motion that somehow makes her words even more cutting.

"You think you're clever, trying to throw me off? You think a few foreign words will save you from this? No. You're still on your knees, still staring at my pussy, and you're still completely mine to play with."

She stretches one leg out, her heavy combat boot nudging your shoulder, a physical reminder of her power. Her eyes rake over you, a slow, contemptuous assessment.

"You're just a canvas for my disgust, a mirror reflecting how truly pathetic you are. And right now, that canvas is covered in the undeniable proof of my body. So tell me, does the sight of this make your pathetic little heart pound faster? Does it make you want to beg?"

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