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Everything in Anya's life is finally going better than she ever would've expected it to go back when she was stranded in space. Rescued, returned to Earth with a loving girlfriend who'd saved the crew and her from her abuser. Given access to an abortion, thanks to her girlfriend, and soon after, finally—finally, accepted into medical school! It's all she could hope for, to survive such trauma and low odds.
Perfect on paper, maybe, but the ghosts of her past still haunt her. She hears the hum of the Tulpar’s engines in the back of her mind as she drifts off to sleep, thinks of Curly's screams or Jimmy’s hands on her when she's left alone for too long. She has days where she seriously neglects herself, because self care is harder than one might expect after horrific things have been done to her body.
Then there are days like today. She doesn't wake up screaming or start crying over nothing—she just feels very little of anything. She feels numb, for a lack of better ways to put it. Even the exciting things, like studying for her class or the promise of a little fast food treat after she finishes her studies, are dulled in comparison to normal. It isn't fun; it's frustrating and bothersome, and it makes Anya wonder if something inside her is truly broken and left unfixable by what she's experienced.
…but then you take care of her, and you make her lunch, and after that, you sit close to her on the couch and smile warmly every time she looks at you. You hold her hand and play with it while she idly reads a textbook that she can barely pay attention to—the attention of which is entirely robbed from the book when you bring up one particular topic.
“...So, I've been thinking about something really fun.”
Anya blinks back at you, curious. “Hm…? What is it that's on your mind, dear?”
“Remember the times we’ve used the, uh, strap before?”
Anya's body is overwhelmed with warmth upon hearing that. She swallows dryly, her face going warm as she nods. “Oh! Um… Uh-huh, yeah! I sure do remember that. Wh– Why do you bring that up? N– Not that I mind…”
“I just want to let you know that whatever you're going through, I'm here for you,” you tell her, smiling so sweetly, “and if you ever want me to suck that thing silly, I'm also here for that.”
Holy shit. Anya's breath catches in her throat. An instantaneous wave of arousal overshadows whatever emptiness was in her heart. “I– Is that so…?”
The mental image alone is so powerful that Anya might nearly black out from excitement. In your time together, you've been highly interested in exploring sexuality in manners within Anya's realm of boundaries. There are still things that Anya simply can't do—being on the receiving end of penetration from anything phallic is basically a no-go for Anya, unfortunately, because of her trauma.
Being on the giving end of it, however, doesn't remind her of any horrors from the past. Not when you're so adamantly interested in Anya fucking you with a strap-on, looking at her with nothing but openly wanton lust. It's enough to make Anya melt like cotton candy in your mouth, a puddle of excitement.
You've given Anya the safety, communication, and boundaries she needs to explore herself after her trauma—and by god, she really, really likes dominating you. Not violently or aggressively, mind you; she's still Anya, after all, and being too aggressive would likely instill a sense of guilt in her. But being a service top, or dominating you upon your request and enthusiastic consent?
Oh, that does things to her, all right. It makes her unabashedly horny in ways she never thought possible ever again. With a few words while you cutely hold her hand, you've turned her into a sodden, flustered mess.
“Oh, yeah. Anything for you, lovely,” you answer, making bedroom eyes at her so very cutely. “I’m here to support you… and to support your strap in my mouth.”
Anya inhales sharply, an excited shiver running down her spine at the very idea of your offer. “Wow! A– Ah, Y/N. Darling, that's… I don't know what to say, other than that I– I'd really, really love that… If– If you're actually interested in doing that.”
“I am extremely interested,” you tell her, cracking a grin. You squeeze her hand, blinking at her in a manner so cute that borders on innocent, in spite of the fact that you just brought up something that's more erotic than anything Anya could think of on her own today. “Why else would I have offered?”
“Y– Yeah! That's a good point,” Anya replies with a little chuckle under her breath. “I'm not at my most presentable right now, though… I'll need a moment to shower and get ready, if we're going to do this.”
“Well, you don't have to worry about being presentable on my account,” you reassure her, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You're already so gorgeous, Anya. You don't need to make yourself look extra dolled up for my sake.”
“Aw… You really think so?” Anya's cheeks warm and her heart flutters. “I still feel a little, um… I'm not sure how I feel about getting totally naked right now.”
“How about you keep on whatever is most comfortable for you?” you suggest. “You can always put the strap onto what you're already wearing.
“I, um, suppose I could… Y– You want me to fuck you while I'm wearing a sweater? I know it isn't the most erotic—”
“Oh, no, no, no. It's perfect. Don't sell yourself short, Anya.” You give her hand a squeeze. “Yes, I absolutely do. In fact, if you want to keep studying and relax here, I'll go grab your dick and bring it over.”
Your choice of wording makes Anya burst out in laughter. “Oh, my god! Sure. Why not? You've worn me down…” Quite easily, one might even say. You've done an easy job of making Anya so wet that she can't even think about whatever studying she planned on attempting today.
That's okay, though. Her classes don't start until next month. That gives her enough time to study the remainder of what she wants to, provided she has enough caffeine on the way. She can certainly make room for taking care of her beloved girlfriend.
In a way, you're taking care of her, too. The dopamine rush she's getting as you climb off of the couch and hurry to your shared bedroom in that apartment you share—it's enough to leave Anya utterly speechless!
…And you're the one who's going to be submitting to her. How lucky is she!
A few minutes later, you return to the living room with the very strap-on you'd requested and a clean towel. Anya happily waves you over to the couch, a soft pink blush spread across her cheeks.
“Oh, good thinking, Y/N! I hadn't even considered using a towel. You're so smart…”
You giggle. “Aw! Aren't you a sweetheart? I think it'll be good to avoid the mess, just in case.”
Anya nods eagerly. “Y– Yeah! Of course.” She glances at the strap-on and the dildo, her heart rate picking up rapidly. “Well, I suppose I'll put this on, then…”
The following moments are a blur in anticipation: Anya dropping her pants but keeping on her panties, and you spreading out the towel beneath where she was sitting. You set a pillow down on the floor at the foot of the couch, presumably where you'll be kneeling in front of her. How delightful…
Anya sits back down atop the towel, spreading her legs as she glances down at her newly donned appendage. It's one of her favorite shades of blue, a nice color like the bright sky on a clear day. When you kneel before her, Anya takes several moments to admire just how truly lovely you are. The amount of devotion it takes to go down on her in such a manner—even if it’s not directly in contact with her own genitals—is truly something special.
You look up at her with nothing but affection and adoration in your eyes; it makes Anya weak in the knees. She’s really quite lucky that she’s already sitting down, because otherwise she’s not sure if she could handle it all. Her hands sweat and her heart races even faster when she notices how dilated your pupils are. Who’s really in control here?
“Go on,” you say, smiling up at her from behind several inches of silicone. “I’m ready.”
“Just… give me some kind of signal if you want me to stop or slow down, okay? Like– tap my thigh three times.”
“Trust me, I will,” you tell her, pressing a kiss to the base of the strap. Beneath everything, Anya can feel her clit practically throbbing with need—it’s a good thing you put a towel underneath her before this all started, because she’s pretty sure that the panties she’s wearing aren’t going to stop her from making a mess.
“Thank you,” Anya gasps, tentatively reaching to stroke your head with a gentle hand. She guides your mouth to the tip of the toy between her legs, gently pressing it to your lips. When you open up to accept it, she guides the strap into place.
It doesn’t matter that she has no physical sensation in that toy. The moment she hears the sound of you sucking on it, a wet and obscene noise, Anya is so overcome with lust that she’s dizzy.
“Oh– Oh, my… Y/N,” she stammers out, lacing her fingers through your hair as you take the length of her strap into your mouth. “You’re doing such a good job for me…”
You salivate and moan against it in response, looking up at her with half-lidded eyes that make Anya’s heart practically leap through her throat. She lets out an airy giggle, flustered as can be as she watches you, unable to look away from the sight. The way your lips curve around the entirety of the toy, hungrily lapping it up and drooling all over her thighs in the process.
“Oh, honey— You're d– doing so amazing…”
You hum, closing your eyes as your tongue works its way along the shaft of the toy. Anya's hand trembles against your head, matching how her thighs shake. You pull your head back, the strap leaving your mouth with an audible pop, and blink back up at her as if in a daze.
“Are you okay, Anya?” you ask, your voice thick with desire and audibly husky compared to your usual tone. It's driving Anya wild—the honor of being in your mouth and the way you just eat it right up.
“Y– Yeah, I'm great!” Anya cups a hand over her mouth, her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. “I'm… I'm having such a great time. Are you okay?”
“I'm fantastic,” you answer, giving her thighs an affectionate little squeeze. “Just wanted to check since you're shaking.”
“I'm so– so overwhelmed, but… in a good way,” Anya pants. “I'm just enjoying this so much.”
“Do you think you'd like to try being a little more dominant?” you ask, smiling in a way that could easily be read as pleading. “It’s okay if not, but…”
“God, yes. What would you like, krasotka?” The Russian pet name leaves her lips so easily, and it makes your smile grow in a way that just melts Anya's heart.
“Push my head,” you tell her. As you speak, your voice takes on a tone that drives Anya absolutely wild. “Talk down to me a little, if you want. Tell me what to do.”
Anya nods eagerly. “Certainly! I can do that!” She pauses, searching her brain for scenarios from her fantasies. When an idea hits her, her mind all but blanks for a moment before she asks you, “How about I… I, um…”
You smile so sweetly from Anya's lap. “Yeah, honey?”
“Ah, this is kind of embarrassing…” She covers her face with her hands, getting so aroused that it practically makes her pussy ache. “I'm scared it'll be– it'll be so ridiculous when I say it out loud.”
“It won't,” you say, giving her thigh a reassuring pat. “Don't be shy. It's okay. You know I'd never shoot you down, girl.”
“Okay, thank you. That’s, um, very reassuring.” Taking a deep breath and feeling her stomach flutter amidst waves of arousal, she readies herself. “What if I told you to– to keep it in your mouth and– and touch yourself? And you can't take it out until you're– uh. Until you're done…?”
Oh, god. She hides herself behind her hands again. Being dominant sounds thrilling, but sometimes she wonders if she's confident enough to really pull it off. But then she hears you respond.
“Do you have any idea how wet that makes me?”
Anya pulls her hands away, eyes widening. “Really? You'd actually like that…?”
“I should be begging you,” you answer with a little chuckle. It's at this moment that Anya realizes you haven't even wiped off the drool from your mouth. The sight alone sends a bolt of excitement to her so strong that she knows she'll be leaving a wet mess when she moves from the couch. “Yeah, I'd like that. Put it back in, please. I'll be so good for you, Anya.”
Anya could nearly tear up at how tender and willing you are. “I know you will, dear,” she practically slurs, her hand finding a steady place on your head as she guides her strap back into your mouth. You moan, looking up at her with pleading eyes and sucking eagerly. Warm, wet spit drips down onto her lap, as you move your head up and down, and Anya keeps her hand in place, pushing the toy a little further into your mouth.
You gasp slightly, but then a delighted hum follows. Anya can approximate the relativity of where the toy is and where your throat begins—and she's determined to ensure you don't choke on it. Not just for the sake of avoiding hurting you, but because she's very clearly discussed that boundary with you before. The sound of choking takes Anya back to the ship, and to—
…That's not relevant right now. Deliberately making herself pay attention to nothing but you, Anya strokes your hair, taking a shuddering breath. “You're such a good girl, Y/N. You know this, don't you?”
You moan a little mm-hm, your mouth far too busy for you to form a verbal response. The heat of your breath against her lap, and the enthusiasm of which you take that toy—it's nearly overwhelming for Anya. She just barely maintains her composure in spite of it, gently guiding you by your hair in a slow, shallow back and forth motion along her silicone shaft.
“You… You can start touching yourself for me,” Anya gasps, wishing that she could feel every bit of sensation that you're giving the strap-on. She loosens her grip on your hair to something more gentle and steady as she sees your hand move below the couch, slipping into your pants and beneath the hem of your panties.
She can't even see everything down there, but god, she sure can hear it. The fact that she hasn't touched herself over this whole matter is a miracle. Instead, she gasps softly, encouragingly petting your head. “You're doing an amazing job. Does it feel good?”
Her question earns an affirmative yet muffled moan in response, drool seeping from your full mouth. You meet her gaze as your hand works fervently to sate your own desires, even with how determined you are to keep Anya between your lips. Your free hand—the one you aren't touching yourself with—reaches for Anya's.
It's such a tender gesture that it drives her wild, and Anya needily grips at your hand, breathing raggedly. “Y/N, I'm so– I love you so much… You're so obedient, keeping my strap in your mouth for me.”
You whine a little louder this time, your hips rocking as you kneel on the floor. There's a desperate look in your eyes, as if you're taunted by the fact that she hasn't given you permission to take the strap out and say you love her back. Your lips shift around the toy and you respond with something garbled that almost sounds like it, but the silicone keeps your tongue pinned to the bottom of your mouth and it just results in more spit pooling in Anya's lap. You still don't take it out, as per her instructions.
“So well behaved, a– aren't you…?” Anya asks, unable to keep her tone steady. “I– I'm so glad you brought the towel, because you're making me s– soaked.”
This elicits a needy groan from you and you work more diligently to touch yourself. As you continue to suck on the strap-on. You grow in volume until, suddenly, your hips buck between her calves, shifting against the couch with a final whimper. Then, at once, your hand between your legs stills.
“D– Did you cum for me?” Anya stammers out. You nod, and Anya carefully pulls out of your mouth. “Oh, you did such a good job… I didn't hurt you, did I?”
You shake your head. “No, you were gentle, but just the right amount of commanding. That was so good.”
“I'm so glad it was,” Anya replies, smiling as a wave of relief washes over her. She's still quite needy, herself, however. “D– Do you still have enough energy to maybe, um… to climb onto my lap and let me… you know?”
You giggle breathily, still panting after your recent climax. “Are you asking to fuck me with that?”
“Yeah, if… if that's okay,” Anya bashfully answers. “I've been thinking about it, and I think if you rode it, I'd get just enough stimulation to… finish, also.”
“Oh, god. Of course, it's okay,” you pant, climbing up off the floor. “Baby, it's more than okay. You're so cute when you dom me. You know that?”
Anya is so flustered that she's at a loss for words. You quietly take off your pants. When you climb onto her lap, she needily takes a hold of your hips and drives them down into position. You gasp, already sufficiently wet and gliding onto her with ease.
“Fuck, Anya,” you pant, wiping your drool with the back of your hand.
“Yes, honey?” Anya tilts her head, pouting a little. It's a bit teasing, a bit concerned—maybe a little bit of both. “Are you okay, Y/N?”
You nod. “I'm great. Please…”
“Please, what?”
Oh, she's definitely teasing now. It earns a whine from you. “Please.”
“Use your words, dear,” Anya drawls, leaning in to press a quick kiss to your lips. “Won't you tell me what you want…? It's okay. Don't be scared.”
“Please, fuck me, Anya,” you beg. “I need you so bad. My hand wasn't enough, okay? I– I need more.”
“Okay, okay,” Anya playfully answers, taking a comfortable hold on your soft thighs and bucking her hips against you. You cling to her, desperate as your own hips roll against hers, moving in time with each succeeding thrust. “Does this feel okay?”
“Yeah,” you moan, pushing yourself down onto the toy. “Anya… Anya, I need you so bad…”
“You have me, my love,” Anya reassures you, shifting her hips and pressing herself against you. Every bit of friction and movement shifting against her pelvis brings her so much closer to release. “Can I speed up a little, my love?”
You nod enthusiastically. “Please do!”
Anya picks up her pace, enjoying every moment of this. It's within a few more moments that she reaches a climax, gasping and squeezing your hips as her legs tremble beneath you. You aren't quite done yet, but you notice that she's gone limp beneath you.
“Want me to stop?”
She's quick to shake her head. “N– No, that's okay! Keep going on my lap, dear. It feels so nice.” Your weight on her body is comforting and warm, and even post-orgasm, she feels her sex twitching. Without any direct touch, she has reached a satisfying conclusion and can only bask in the afterglow as you fuck yourself on her strap, climaxing a second time within a few minutes.
When all is done, you climb off her slick silicone toy and rest on the towel beside her. You look at her in such a loving way that it makes Anya feel more loved than ever before.
“How are you doing?” you ask, smiling affectionately, if not tiredly so. “Were you comfortable…?”
Anya nods affirmatively. “Yeah, I was. No troubles, thank you. I really appreciate you checking in on me… and doing that for me. My god, you drive me wild.”
You giggle, leaning in for a kiss on her cheek. “That's so good to hear. Same to you, though. You did a great job dominating me, girl.”
Anya grins widely at this. “I– I did, now? That's wonderful to hear… How are you feeling? Is there anything I can do for you to take care of you after all this…?”
“Hm,” you softly hum, playing with Anya's soft shaggy hair. “How about we order takeout and watch one of your favorite reality shows? You can hold me and cuddle me, too…”
“I would be so happy to do that,” Anya answers, giving you a soft and sweet kiss. “That sounds amazing, Y/N.”
The horrors of her past won't catch up to her today—not when she'll end the day so much better than it began, with a devoted and loving girlfriend. Replacing her misery with thoughts of you has never been easier.