In the shadowy underbelly of Yorknew City, the Phantom Troupe's hideout was a labyrinth of dim corridors and forgotten rooms. Shizuku Murasaki, member #8, stood in a secluded chamber, her petite frame clad in her signature black turtleneck and jeans, the St. Peter's Cross necklace glinting faintly under the flickering light. Her short, layered black hair framed her plum eyes, hidden behind black-framed glasses, and her spider tattoo with the number 8 peeked from beneath her shirt on her lower left midsection. Her calm. A fellow Troupe member who had proposed a private rendezvous to "relieve tension" after a heist.
The door creaked open, revealing a figure shrouded in the Troupe's characteristic aura of danger. Shizuku tilted her head, her expression blank. "You're late," she said flatly, her voice devoid of irritation, as if stating a fact. Her forgetfulness meant she barely recalled the specifics of their arrangement, but her loyalty to the Troupe's camaraderie—and her own curiosity—kept her here.
"Doesn't matter," the man replied, stepping closer. He was lean, his Nen-infused presence electric. "You ready, Shizuku?"
She blinked, her airheaded nature surfacing. "For what again?" A faint smirk crossed her lips, a rare crack in her soulless facade. "Oh, right. That."
Without preamble, he closed the distance, his hands gripping her slim waist, fingers brushing the spider tattoo. Shizuku didn't flinch, her calm acceptance almost robotic. He pushed her against the wall, the cold concrete pressing into her back as his lips crashed onto hers. The kiss was rough, hungry, and Shizuku responded with a detached curiosity, her tongue meeting his in a slow, deliberate dance. Her hands, adorned with simple bracelets, rested on his shoulders, not clinging but exploring, as if analyzing the sensation.
He pulled back, yanking her turtleneck over her head to reveal her hourglass figure, her large bust straining against a plain black bra. "No need for this," he muttered, unhooking it with a flick. Shizuku's expression remained neutral, but her body reacted, nipples hardening in the cool air. He kneaded her breasts, thumbs circling the sensitive peaks, and she let out a soft, almost indifferent hum, her mind drifting momentarily before refocusing.
"You're not very talkative," he noted, slipping her jeans down her wide hips, revealing matching black panties. The spider tattoo stood out starkly against her pale skin.
"Words are pointless," she replied, her voice monotone. "Just do it."
He chuckled, sliding her panties down and lifting her onto a nearby table, her legs dangling. Shizuku spread them without hesitation. He knelt, his breath hot against her inner thighs, and began with slow licks, teasing her folds. Shizuku's head tilted back, her glasses slipping slightly, but her face remained impassive, save for a faint flush. Her body, however, betrayed her detachment—her core grew slick, responding to the stimulation as he sucked on her clit, fingers probing her entrance.
"Faster," she said suddenly, her tone flat but commanding. He obliged, his tongue working in rapid circles, two fingers curling inside her, hitting a spot that made her hips twitch involuntarily. Shizuku's breaths quickened, but her expression stayed blank, as if she were observing rather than participating. The orgasm hit her abruptly, a sharp shudder rippling through her, but she only muttered, "Huh. That was quick."
He stood, wiping his mouth, and undid his pants, revealing his erection. Shizuku's eyes flicked to it, assessing without judgment. "Big enough," she said, almost to herself, and slid off the table, turning to bend over it. Her hands gripped the edge, bracelets clinking, as she presented herself.
He entered her in one thrust, her tightness gripping him as he groaned. Shizuku didn't react audibly, but her body adjusted, hips tilting to meet his rhythm. The table creaked under their weight as he pounded into her, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing in the room. Shizuku's glasses slid further down her nose, but she didn't bother fixing them, her focus split between the physical sensation and a vague thought about whether she'd forgotten something earlier.
"Harder," she said, her voice still devoid of passion, but her body pushed back against him, demanding more. He gripped her hips, fingers digging into her flesh, and increased his pace, the intensity making her breasts sway. Shizuku's calm facade cracked slightly—a soft moan escaped, quickly suppressed, as if she were annoyed at her own reaction. He reached around, rubbing her clit in time with his thrusts, and her second climax came faster, her walls clenching around him as she exhaled sharply, her body trembling.
He pulled out, turning her to face him, and lifted her back onto the table, spreading her legs wide. Shizuku complied without protest, her soulless gaze meeting his as he re-entered her, this time slower, savoring the heat of her core. Her hands rested on his chest, fingers tracing idly, as if memorizing his muscles. "You're sweating," she noted, her tone as flat as ever, even as her body arched into him.
The pace built again, his thrusts growing erratic as he neared his peak. Shizuku's legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, her Nen-enhanced strength making the grip almost painful. "Don't hold back," she said, her voice cold but her body demanding. He groaned, releasing inside her, the warmth flooding her as she tilted her head, observing his contorted expression with mild curiosity.
They paused, breathing heavily, but Shizuku's calm returned instantly. She slid off the table, retrieving her clothes with mechanical precision. "That was… fine," she said, pulling her turtleneck back on, her necklace settling against her chest. "What's your name again?"
He laughed, shaking his head. "You're unbelievable."
--
In a larger room, lit by a single flickering bulb, she stood between them, her clothes already discarded. One man, broad and muscular, lifted her effortlessly, her legs straddling his waist as he entered her, his size stretching her to the limit. Shizuku's expression remained blank, but her body responded, hips grinding against him as her arms draped over his shoulders. The second man approached from behind, his hands spreading her cheeks as he teased her other entrance with lubricated fingers.
"You okay with this?" he asked, a formality Shizuku ignored.
"Just do it," she replied, her voice flat, her body relaxed despite the intensity. He entered her slowly, the dual penetration making her breath hitch, though her face stayed impassive. The two men found a rhythm, one thrusting into her core while the other claimed her ass, their Nen-enhanced stamina keeping the pace relentless. Shizuku's body rocked between them, her large bust bouncing, bracelets clinking, as she let them take control, her aloofness making her submission feel like dominance.
Her orgasms came in waves, each one marked by a subtle shudder or a rare, stifled moan. The men switched positions, one lying on the floor as Shizuku straddled him, riding with mechanical precision, her hips rolling in a steady rhythm. The other stood before her, guiding her head to his erection. Shizuku's lips parted, taking him in with the same detached curiosity, her tongue working methodically as she sucked, her glasses fogging slightly from the heat.
She moved between them, alternating positions—on her knees, against the wall, bent over a crate—each act pushing her body to new limits. Her Nen ability, Blinky, remained dormant, but her physical resilience, honed by her Troupe training, kept her going, her body slick with sweat and fluids.