As soon as Makoto could see Tatsuya clearly on the screen, he smirked. Then he started to fondle Mafuyu's breasts and deep-kissed her, making a show of it for the camera. "Yo, are you seeing us clearly, Mr. ex-boyfriend? We meet again."
A strangled sound of rage came through the phone's speaker. "You... you FUCKER!" Tatsuya's voice was full of impotent fury. "What are you doing?! Get your filthy hands off of her!"
Mafuyu flinched at the sound of Tatsuya's voice, a deep, ingrained reflex that broke Makoto's heart a little. But Makoto's kiss and touch were now her anchor. It was a reality more powerful than the ghost on the screen. A small whimper escaped her throat, a sound of corrupted pleasure.
"She's MINE, do you hear me?!" Tatsuya screamed, his voice cracking. "Fuck her all you want, but she'll come back to me! She always does! She's a broken, pathetic little thing, and she NEEDS me!"
Makoto pulled back from the kiss, a thin trail of saliva connecting them. Mafuyu's face was a radiant shade of crimson, but she wasn't crying, nor scared anymore.
"Does she, now?" Makoto said, his voice low and amused. He looked at Mafuyu, a silent command in his eyes. "Your turn. Show him!"
Mafuyu took a deep, shuddering breath. And then, she looked directly at the camera, at Tatsuya. A devastating smile spread across her face. "No," she whispered, her voice strong. "I'm not your anymore, I will never go back."
"You didn't learn anything from the last time, did you?" Makoto smirked and positioned himself behind Mafuyu, rubbing his cock against her already wet entrance. "Push it in yourself and tell him how good it feels, Mafuyu."
Tatsuya's screams dissolved into wet, choked, pathetic sobs. "No... Mafuyu... baby, don't do this... please..."
The sound of Tatsuya's pathetic pleading seemed to be the final push Mafuyu needed. The last traces of fear and doubt, of years of conditioning, all just evaporated. Her hesitation was gone, her shyness was a distant memory.
She was a new creature, a free woman, the one Makoto fucked out of her that night in the hotel room. She looked back at Makoto's hard, waiting cock. She looked at her own trembling hands. And then, she looked directly at the camera.
"Watch," she whispered, her voice low and dangerous, filled with need and defiance. And then, with slow, deliberate movement, she pushed Makoto's cock inside.
A sharp cry tore from her throat. Her back arched, her head thrown back, her hair now a wild, tangled mess. "Oh, god," she panted. "It's too big... It feels... it feels so good..."
She began to move, a slow, hypnotic rhythm, her hips rolling in a dance of lust. "He feels so... so much better than you, Tatsuya," she whispered, driving a final nail into his coffin.
On the screen, Tatsuya's face, which had been a mask of pathetic pleading, crumbled. He let out a sound that wasn't a word. It sounds like a raw, animalistic cry of impotent fury and well-deserved pain.
Makoto yanked Mafuyu's hair hard and slapped her ass, careful not to bruise her while giving her the pain she craved. "That's not enough, Mafuyu! Say it more clearly so he can understand."
An animalistic cry tore from Mafuyu's throat as the pain hit her. It was clean and sharp, but filled with care and free of malice. It was the final key that unlocked the darkest room of her desire. Her head snapped back, her eyes sharpening into a terrifying focus.
She stared directly into the phone's camera, at the pathetic, weeping face of her former abuser. "His cock is so thick...," she panted, each word punctuated by a gasp as he slammed into her. "He fills me up completely. Not like you... you were always so small... so quick."
Her words were a torrent now, a flood of brutal, devastating honesty toward her ex. "And he's so strong and caring. He knows what I want, he knows how to hurt me the right way."
She arched her back, a perfect bow of submission and power, her hips now a blur of motion. "He's making me cum by stretching my cunt out, Tatsuya," she sobbed. "Can you hear it? He's making me cum so hard... something you could never do..."
Mafuyu's voice dissolved into a high, keening wail as her orgasm ripped through her. On the phone screen, Tatsuya's face went blank and white. He didn't seem to be breathing.
"Oh ho, seems like you cum even faster when your ex-boyfriend is watching," Makoto chuckled, holding back hard to keep from cumming inside her quivering cunt.
Mafuyu collapsed onto the futon, boneless and trembling, completely sated. For a moment, she was just a puddle of sensation, her mind blank and white.
"Ride me this time, Mafuyu-nee. Show him what he was missing." Makoto commanded as he gave her thick ass a playful slap. His voice cut through Mafuyu's post-orgasmic haze.
A happy grin spread across her face. She pushed herself up, her movements a little unsteady and shaky, but filled with new confidence. She straddled Makoto and looked down at him, her eyes shining with unhinged light.
And then, she looked at the camera, then back at Makoto. "You're right, dear. My ex is watching, let's give him a show."
She took Makoto's cock into her hand slowly. And then, she lowered herself onto it. A strangled cry tore from her throat as pleasure overwhelmed her again. She began to move, riding him with hypnotic rhythm. "Look, Tatsuya! Look at what you're never going to have again."
"Good, keep moving like that. I'm going to cum anytime soon." Makoto leaned in to gently bite her nipples, his hand constricting her neck.
The bite on her nipple was a sharp, exquisite spark that ignited a roaring fire. But the pressure on her neck was a beautiful, terrifying wave of overwhelming sensation. She threw her head back, a guttural sound torn from her throat.
Her body was a taut bowstring, vibrating with a year's worth of repressed pleasure and pain, all of it finally unleashed. "I'm cumming, honey! I'm cumming again...! Cum together with me, fill me up, Makoto!"
Her words dissolved into a high, keening wail as a second, even more powerful orgasm ripped through her. It was a shuddering explosion that triggered Makoto's own release. He grunted as he flooded her with his thick, hot cum.
The room fell silent, the only sound was their ragged, uneven breathing. On the phone screen, Tatsuya was staring into the void. He hadn't hung up yet. And on the bed, Mafuyu collapsed onto Makoto, a blissfully sated wreck.
"Well, well, at this rate, I might knock you up for real. Still thinking of going back to him, Mafuyu?" Makoto hugged and caressed her, gently running his hands over her light bruises.
Mafuyu let out a soft chuckle. It was a fragile, watery sound, but it was a laugh nonetheless. She nuzzled against Makoto's chest, making a slight contented sound, like a cat who had finally found her sunbeam.
"Go back, honey?" she whispered. "Why would I ever want to do that?"
She lifted her head, and her eyes were filled with gratitude and lust. But it was also love, real and undeniable. "I'm home now," she whispered. She looked at the phone, at the blank, broken face of the man who had been her entire world just a few weeks ago.
And she felt nothing: No fear, no anger, no sadness. Just a quiet, almost clinical pity.
"He's pathetic. He was always pathetic." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "And I was a fool for not realizing that sooner." She looked back at Makoto with a smile on her face. "But I'm not anymore, thanks to you, honey."
And then, she reached over and ended the call. The screen went black, marking a final, devastating end to a chapter of her life and the beginning of a new one.
"That's too bad, you haven't shown him how my cum leaked out from your cunt," Makoto said, gently pulling his cock out with a chuckle. "Maybe we can send him a video of us fucking in a maid costume next time."
A girlish laugh bubbled up from Mafuyu's throat. The last of the shadows, the ghosts of her past, seemed to evaporate in the warm, bright light of her laughter. "A maid costume?" she repeated, with a slow blush that crept up her neck. "You're... you're terrible, Makoto. I have no such clothes."
But she wasn't pulling away. In fact, she was snuggling closer, her body a warm, pliant weight against his. Her eyes began to droop. The adrenaline and the ecstasy were all finally catching up to her.
She buried her face in the crook of his neck, a small, contented sigh escaping her lips. "...Thank you, Makoto," she whispered, her voice raw and sleepy. "For loving me, for freeing me, for... everything."
Her breathing evened out into the slow, steady rhythm of sleep. Makoto just lay there in the quiet, messy spare room, with a beautiful and free woman asleep in his arms. And for the first time in a very long time, he felt at peace.
Until his phone buzzed again with some messages in their group chat.