Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/8067946.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      RWBY
  Relationship:
      Pyrrha_Nikos/Cardin_Winchester
  Character:
      Pyrrha_Nikos, Cardin_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      ntr, Blackmail, Degradation, Exhibitionism, Public_Display_of_Affection,
      Oral_Sex, Dubious_Consent
  Stats:
      Published: 2016-09-18 Words: 3373
****** Pyrrha's Place ******
by EvilFuzzy9
Summary
     Cardin blackmails Pyrrha instead of Jaune, and he does it in exactly
     the way you'd expect. [RWBY] [NTR, dubcon, degradation, light smut]
Meet me tonight at the clocktower. Wear something sexy.

The contents of this letter resounded in Pyrrha's mind. Although the sheet of
paper on which it had been written was long since crumpled up and reduced to
ashes, she could still see the words with perfect clarity as they swam before
her mind's eye.

Feeling indignant, yet knowing that she had to endure this for Jaune's
sake—for all their sakes—Pyrrha absentmindedly worried at the straps of her
blouse. It was not the most revealing thing a student of Beacon had ever worn.
Heck, it wasn't even really any skimpier than her usual outfit, but then that
at least was a warrior uniform.

This, however... this was something that would only be worn to look attractive.
Pyrrha hardly knew why she'd kept such a thing in her wardrobe; she was a
serious girl by nature, and dedicated to the goal of becoming a huntress. She
didn't come to Beacon looking for a husband. Of course, if she found such a
person in the course of her learning, then she could see herself pitching woo
and making love...

But that wasn't her aim in coming to this school. Romance, sex... these were
natural facets of human existence, and she did not scorn people who longed to
find true love, or even necessarily people who just wanted a hot fling. That
wasn't who she was, though, or at least it did not define her. Still, perhaps
it was the vague hope that she might find someone nice, and might therefore
feel desirous of engaging in a relationship, and might even want to wear
something cute for them, that had made her pack this outfit with all her other
things.

And it was cute, to her mind. While it exposed an amount of cleavage which the
prudish might call indecent, and didn't cover nearly as much of her legs as
would have been sensible in this cool night air, Pyrrha didn't know if she
would call it sexy. That wasn't a word she typically used, nor something she
often considered. Frankly she had only a general idea of what the opposite sex
found appealing, knowing from experience that most straight guys usually
lingered over the sight of her cleavage. Many, such as Jaune for the first few
days of their acquaintance, would look only briefly before blushing and
averting their gaze. Others would stare longer, and act only somewhat abashed
when they met her eyes. But a very noticeable and irksome few—one man in
particular standing out in her mind—would look exclusively at her chest and
never meet her eyes at all.

Such did Cardin when he saw her approach, his gaze slipping immediately south
of her visage. He leered undisguisedly at the sun-kissed cleavage bared by her
top. It wasn't much more than she usually showed, but still Pyrrha felt a
shiver from the intensity of his look. She stared at his face and tried not to
redden under his gaze. She usually didn't mind it that much if people glanced
at her cleavage, at least not so long as they were equally willing to meet her
eyes. But, Cardin... ugh. There was just something about his stare that made
her feel dirty.

Still, she swallowed her pride and forced herself to smile.

"Well?" she asked him, stopping and standing stiffly three feet away.

Cardin still looked at her chest. It made Pyrrha self conscious to perceive his
eyes glued so intently thereupon.

"Pose for me, babe," he finally said, attempting a suave tone yet only managing
to sound oily and insipid. "Show me what you've got."

Pyrrha bit back a grimace, and after taking a calming breath she affected a
stereotypically cute and inviting posture. Cute, but not sexy. She could see
that distinction in his eyes.

The disdain and disappointment therein... it cut her rather deeper than she
would have liked.

"Is that the best you can do?" he asked. "A pity. Maybe I should turn those
documents in after all..."

"No!" Pyrrha blurted out, her eyes widening. "I—I'm sorry. I can do better!"

"Can you really?" said Cardin skeptically.

Pyrrha swallowed. Knowing miserably that she had to satisfy this guy to stave
off his threats, she turned in such a way as to present her backside, while
rotating her torso to show her bust simultaneously. She puckered her lips and
raised a finger to gently suckle, crossing her free arm under her breasts to
push them up and apart. She breathed heavily, making her bosom heave with
thoracic expansion and contraction, and she backed up her bottom, flexing her
buttocks and feeling a slight breeze catch the hem of her skirt.

"Is that better... d-darling?" she asked him, nearly choking on the last word.
A shiver ran down her spine, and she saw Cardin leer hungrily at her posterior.

There was amusement in his eyes, and also a touch of scorn.

"Your panties aren't very sexy," he said. "Do better, next time."

Pyrrha winced despite herself. It didn't take a genius to figure out that the
wind must have blown her skirt sufficiently to expose what she wore underneath.

"My panties? Why should they matter?" Even as she asked this, she felt like a
fool for saying it. The reason was obvious, even if she did not want to
contemplate it. And she didn't want to think about what this suggested. It was
too unpleasant a notion, too dreadful yet to consider.

"You know why," said Cardin in his smug, oily tone, gesticulating with a
condescension that deeply irked her. He stepped toward her with a swagger and
puffed out of his chest, leering next at her bosom. "It's only natural for a
girlfriend to wear sexy underwear when she meets her boyfriend. At least, if
she wants to make him happy."

Pyrrha shivered at these words, and the obvious meaning behind them. It took
her a fair bit of effort to neither step back in disgust or advance in
defiance. More effort still to keep standing in place when he reached out to
touch her, to brush his fingers against her cheek. It was shamefully
electrifying, that contact, exciting in a way that deeply disturbed her.

Her face warmed.

"Well, I guess you're still nice to look at," Cardin said at least, as if he
was making a very reluctant concession. "You're cute when you blush, anyways."

Pyrrha's cheeks flamed all the more deeply at this remark. She tried to pull
back reflexively, but Cardin had a hand on the small of her back, and he rather
drew her in closer. Her face wound up pressed against his chest by this, and
despite herself, Pyrrha inwardly noted that Cardin had a very solid body.
Whatever his shortcomings in character and intellect, he was still a powerfully
built young man, the sort of guy whom more shallow girls might certainly find
very attractive.

His hand moved down from her back, and it came to a rest over the rear of her
skirt. Another shiver raced up Pyrrha's spine, and she took in a sharp breath.
Cardin's smell filled her nostrils. It was not a bad smell, even if he did go a
bit heavy on cologne. Indeed, with acclimatization it might even grow to be a
smell that she savored.

This thought perturbed her. She didn't want to grow acclimated, to get used to
this...

...did she?

Cardin squeezed her ass, and Pyrrha lost her train of thought.




"What have you got on today?" Cardin asked Pyrrha the next time they met under
the clocktower.

She stepped into the light, showing that she wore an outfit similar to the one
from before, save that the neckline was scooped a bit lower, and the hem of her
skirt trimmed a little higher. Moreover she was blushing, looking more bashful
and less bitterly resigned than last time. Cardin surveyed her clothes with
mild appreciation.

"Well, the outside is better," he said at length, making a point to boredly
examine his fingernails for dirt. "But underneath?"

Pyrrha gulped. There was no wind tonight, no breeze strong enough to flip her
skirt like before. Cardin knew this, and he understood exactly what he was
asking her to do. It gave Pyrrha a shameful thrill to see that look in his
eyes, the joy he took in dominating her like this.

Gulping, she lifted up the front of her skirt. Cardin watched eagerly.

"Here," Pyrrha said, blushing as red as her hair, unable to look the man in the
eye. "Do you like this?"

Cardin looked at the black lace of Pyrrha's panties. They were smaller and
scantier than her last pair by a fair deal. He grinned, pleased to see this,
and he looked next at her bosom. Here he noticed a sign of something curious—he
could see the outline of her nipples through the cloth of her shirt.

"You aren't wearing a bra," he observed.

Pyrrha's blush spread down to her cleavage as if to emphasize this realization.

"I'm not," she confirmed.

"Why?"

"I... just wanted to. Not wear a bra, that is."

"You're lying," Cardin said, smirking. "What's your real reason?"

Pyrrha gulped. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she ejaculated.

"I thought you would like it."

"You thought right," Cardin conceded, smirking. "I do."

Pyrrha shivered, and she puffed out her chest a little. She still held up the
front of her skirt.

"Does it...?" she started to say, looking uncertain. "Does it make you...?"

She trailed off before finishing, and she let fall the hem of her skirt.

"Mm? Does it make me what?" asked Cardin expectantly.

"N-No, it's nothing," Pyrrha murmured, clasping a hand to her breast. "I'm
sorry."

She didn't meet his eyes.

Grinning, Cardin placed a hand over Pyrrha's and squeezed. As a consequence he
also touched her bosom rather indecently, grasping and rubbing the mound of one
of her tits.

Pyrrha did not protest.




Pyrrha smiled at Cardin, her cheeks a florid pink. She walked over to him in
the midst of the cafeteria, ignoring the questioning looks of her teammates,
carrying her food on a tray. Her bosom heaved, and its motions seemed curiously
noticeable today, and she subtly swung her hips as she approached.

"Hello, darling," she said demurely, shivering a little at her own words. "May
I have this seat?"

There wasn't much room to either side of Cardin. Not enough, at least, for her
to sit on the bench without causing inconvenience to one of his neighbors.
Nonetheless Cardin nodded and shifted, angling himself to present his lap.
Pyrrha knew what he intended by this action. It was precisely what she had
expected—what she had hoped for. Taking the invitation with perfect grace and
suspicious enthusiasm, she slipped her way over the bench and plopped her firm,
round backside squarely on Cardin's thigh.

This action stirred some comment in the area, more perhaps for the oddity of
Pyrrha being with Cardin than for the bold show of her sitting on his lap.
There were plenty of young couples at Beacon Academy, and such public displays
of affection were far from uncommon. But few of those couples were as
incongruous to the mob as were this apparent pairing of two such mutually
unfriendly persons.

Pyrrha blushed, overhearing some of the nearby whispers. She wriggled her hips
on Cardin's lap, rubbing her posterior very close indeed to his crotch. Cardin
meanwhile continued to eat, outwardly showing no sign of notice or care for
Pyrrha's presence, not until she raised a spoonful of mashed potatoes to his
mouth.

"Here, darling," she said to him, her face no less pink than before and her
eyes suggestively half-lidded. "Eat up."

Cardin smiled.

"Thanks," he said, looking at Pyrrha with a glance that was less fond than
possessive, less warm than victorious. Opening his mouth, he permitted the
redhead to spoon the food therein. He ate it with relish, loving what this
represented, what it meant, what it suggested to everyone who watched.

He swallowed, and casually he laid a hand in Pyrrha's lap, wrapping his
arm around her waist.

"Do you like it?" she asked coyly, shifting her backside and laying her free
hand atop Cardin's.

"It's delicious, sweet cheeks," Cardin said, rubbing his hand down her thigh.

Pyrrha shuddered pleasurably, her expression turning borderline obscene for a
fleeting moment. A soft, cute whine escaped her mouth.

"Don't tease me," she said with a pout and a simpering manner that was nothing
like her usual self. She was not referring to how he called her sweet cheeks.

Cardin grinned more widely and brushed a thumb between her legs.

Pyrrha gasped and seized up at this, her eyes rolling nearly to the white. A
low but unmistakeable moan slipped loose from soft, kissable lips. She looked
pleadingly up at Cardin, but he shook his head with a wry smile.

"Not here, babe," he said, stroking again above the 'nothing' twixt her thighs.

Pyrrha bit her lips to keep from whining more loudly.




She approached him in the shadow of the clock tower, her face red and her
breathing labored. Her bosom heaved within a scandalously tiny blouse, and she
blatantly held up the front of a handkerchief-sized skirt. It was clear from
the way her breasts hung in her top that she wore no bra, and Cardin could see
blatantly that she also wore no panties.

Pyrrha's blush was intense, and she looked at him with a slavish expression,
begging and wretched and adoring and shameless. She smiled shakily, crookedly,
swinging her hips and displaying a smooth shaven pubic mound, the moist and
rosy lips of her hot, juicy cunt. Everything about her posture spoke of
servility and desire.

"Master..." she called him there where no one else could hear, abandoning all
pretense of equality in their relationship, all superficial conceit of being
anything more than a slave to this man, a cutely slutty maid who polished his
cock. "Master, I need you... I'm so horny❤"

Once, Pyrrha would have been ashamed to speak like this. The first time she was
forced by him to do this, it had left a taste of bile in her mouth. But now...
well, by now, she was used to it. More than that, even: she enjoyed it.

Cardin lazily unzipped his trousers. A thick, remarkably large cock flopped
out. It was flaccid at first, yet it twitched and stiffened even as Pyrrha
watched. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight, as it always did on the first
glimpse, and her loins moistened fiercely. Still holding her skirt up, she
approached more swiftly, rather hurriedly nearing her master's erection.

"Hey, babe. What do you think you're doing?" Cardin asked her, holding a hand
up. "Who said you could go right to the main course? I don't know if you
deserve this yet."

Pyrrha licked her lips, her eyes flicking from Cardin's face to his cock.

"I don't," she said breathlessly, unabashedly. "I don't deserve to be fucked by
your cock. But you enjoy fucking me, don't you, master? I only wanted to do it
for you."

"A likely story," said Cardin dryly, his eyes gleaming. "But I don't need your
cunt to get off. That's something you have to earn."

Understanding his meaning, and knowing how this would go from here, Pyrrha got
down on her knees. She let go of the skirt and brought her hands to her blouse.
Without hesitating she cast it off, throwing the garment an impressive
distance, where it landed in the midst of a well-lit nighttime thoroughfare. 

Her breasts bobbed free of restraint, heaving, quaking, rising and falling.
Cardin leered at the two impressive mounds of womanflesh, Pyrrha's cleavage a
noticeable shade or two darker than the rest of her chest. She grabbed her tits
and squeezed them together, rolling them in her palms, mashing and tugging them
to make the globes squash and deform. She slid them about and made a very lewd
show of them.

Cardin watched with a loftily appreciative gaze, smirking at the view of
Pyrrha's naked upper body and cutely blushing face. His cock twitched, standing
now fully erect and throbbing visibly, the veins which stood out up and down
the length of its shaft pulsing and quivering with a powerful flow of blood.

Pyrrha opened her mouth wide and stuck out her tongue. At the same moment she
lifted her breasts, no longer playing with them but presenting them for his
use, service, and pleasure. Her eyes glittered with anticipation, and she
wiggled her hips excitedly, bucking and bouncing a round, twerkable ass beneath
her criminally short skirt.

Cardin nodded, still smirking.

"Go ahead."

Pyrrha did not lose a single moment. She thrust her head forward, mouth gaping
as wide as it could open, tongue lolling obscenely, and she greedily,
shamelessly thrust her lips down the length of his cock. She went down on him
easily enough, even if she moaned and nearly gagged as it went into her throat.
Despite much recent practice, Pyrrha had to pull her head back and gasp for air
momentarily.

Cardin threaded his fingers through her silken, scarlet locks. He pushed on her
head, steering and guiding, encouraging her to carry on. Pyrrha's mouth went
once more down, and she took again much of his cock into her throat. She made
choking sounds and tried to pull away for a moment, before shivering and
visibly relaxing, her expression growing serenely content. She suppressed her
gag reflex.

Slurp, slurp, slurp.

Smack, smack.

"Mmm...❤"

Pyrrha sucked Cardin's cock. More than that, she deepthroated him. She took his
erection as deeply into her throat as it would go, puffing out her cheeks and
noisily slurping. Her breasts bobbed slightly with the motion of her head and
torso—nothing gratuitous, but just enough to remind Cardin of their softness
and weight.

He watched intently, and growled in satisfaction as Pyrrha sucked his dick. He
pushed harder on her head and she moaned gleefully into his manhood, taking his
full length with a porn star's skill and a nymphomaniac's zeal. It was amusing
to see the once strong and determined huntress-in-training reduced to this,
diminished to aught but a blushing, buxom cock sleeve.

Just thinking this gave him a rush of pleasure, and he saw comparable thoughts
in Pyrrha's eyes, a counterpart enjoyment to match his own. She came in a gout,
gushing juices over her thighs and onto the ground, gasping into his groin and
shuddering from head to toe. Cardin shivered and yanked on her hair, pulling
the redhead's mouth off of his cock with a convulsive strength as he felt his
own ejaculation draw nigh.

Pyrrha, going weak from the exhaustion of orgasm, was conscious just long
enough to see Cardin's erection twitch, and to feel the blast of his ejaculate
spattering her upper body, shooting onto her face and into her hair and all
over her breasts. Some even got in her mouth, and this she happily swallowed.

Then she slumped to the ground, numb and tingly from a very large orgasm. Her
breathing was labored and her body was hot. Unceremoniously Cardin rolled her
onto her belly, causing her tits to flatten on the grass. He flipped up the
back of her skirt, too, baring a round, white ass that was flush with the
recent exertion of her genitals.

Pyrrha blushed happily at this, and she wriggled her hips a final time, feeling
Cardin mount her and press the tip of his still-erect cock to her entrance.

Not her pussy.

But the ass was just as good, to her mind.

With a lusty, husky, drawn out cry at the sensation of his manhood being thrust
into her anus, Pyrrha relaxed and let herself bask in the warmth and the
hardness of Cardin's sex. It was splendid.

She was content.

Huntress? Fall maiden? She didn't care about such things. All that mattered to
her now was Cardin, he and his marvelous cock.

It had been weeks since she'd even thought about the blackmail. She was simply
his love slave, eager and willing in every way.

That was only natural.
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