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With another push, she sunk another inch, his head rubbing up against her g-spot and she moaned again. Unable to help herself she pushed hard, sinking further and stretching her recently virgin hole harder. With a final shove, she bottomed out on his cock, his balls pressing up against her, and his heat throbbing slowly within her. God, she didn’t know she ended up here or what she was going to do now, but she was going to enjoy this moment.

Something was wrong. I struggled to open my eyes, blearily forcing myself to focus. I was in a red-panelled room, dimly lit, one I'd never been in before, with... things, on the walls. Whips, floggers, toys of all descr*ptions, most of which I couldn't even name. It was only then that I realized I was naked, bound on my back to a table with my legs spread into a slight V in the air, wrists above my head, a belt around my waist holding me down. I lifted my head, and saw that my six-inch dick was hard and straining, twitching without my command. Why the fuck was I hard? Arousal was the last thing I was feeling! Confusion, fear, panic, yes. But not arousal.

Neapolitan from RWBY is a character whose cold demeanor and ice cream-themed appearance make her both visually striking and mysterious. As a member of the antagonistic organization, her battles with the protagonists reveal her deadly skills and hidden motivations.