Note: This story was written with assistance by an AI. I provided prompts and edited the results to make sense, creating something resembling a full story.
The barn was bathed in the soft, deep blue of evening, the air thick and warm with the scent of sex and hay. The main lights were off, leaving the space illuminated only by the glowing green screens of Peridot’s abandoned datapads and the faint ambient light from the gemstones of its occupants.
Peridot sat on her workbench, her back against a stack of crates. Her legs were splayed, her small green hand working busily between them, her fingers rubbing tight, frantic circles over her clit. Her visor was off, her eyes, sharp and hungry, fixed on the scene playing out on the floor before her.
There, in a tangle of limbs, Lapis and Jasper were scissoring.
It was a sight of profound, contrasting beauty. Lapis moved with the fluid, rolling grace of the ocean, her hips undulating against Jasper’s, her cool skin gleaming in the dim light. Her face was a mask of serene, focused pleasure, her wings of water shimmering and pulsing in time with their rhythm.
Jasper, beneath her, was all raw, grounded power. Her movements were stronger, more forceful, her thick thighs gripping Lapis’s hips as she ground up against her. The black collar around her neck was a stark reminder of her place, but there was no reluctance in her now. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth open in a continuous, low groan of pleasure, utterly lost in the sensation.
Peridot watched, her breath hitching with her own masturbation. This was the fruit of her labor. This was the perfect data made flesh. Her first true conquest, Lapis, so willingly corrupted, and her most prized acquisition, Jasper, so perfectly broken, moving together in a dance of pleasure she had orchestrated.
“Faster, Jasper,” Peridot panted, her command slicing through the heavy air. “You’re not fighting a corrupted Gem, you’re fucking my Lazuli. Put your back into it.”
A guttural sound ripped from Jasper’s throat, and she obeyed, her thrusts becoming more powerful, more demanding. Lapis gasped, her head falling back, a soft smile touching her lips as she met the increased force with her own fluid strength.
Peridot moaned, her fingers moving faster. She wasn’t just watching them; she was conducting them. Their pleasure was her pleasure. Their submission was her masterpiece. And as she felt her own climax beginning to coil deep within her, she knew this was only the beginning of the night’s entertainment.
The barn echoed with the sounds of their shared climax—Lapis’s soft, shuddering cries, Jasper’s guttural, full-bodied roars, and Peridot’s own sharp, triumphant gasp as she came, her body arching against the crates. For a long moment, there was only the sound of ragged breathing in the blue-hued darkness.
It was Jasper who broke the silence, her voice a hoarse, panting rumble. She lay on her back, Lapis curled against her side, both of them glistening with sweat.
“Peridot,” Jasper began, her brow furrowed not in anger, but in genuine confusion. “What is your objective with all this?”
Peridot, still catching her breath, blinked. She pushed her visor back onto her face, the yellow lenses clicking into place. “My objective? The data, of course. The acquisition of knowledge. The optimization of pleasure and submission. We just achieved three simultaneous, high-intensity orgasms! The data from that alone is—”
“No,” Jasper interrupted, pushing herself up on one elbow. The movement was fluid, powerful, but now carried a thoughtful weight. “Not the immediate goal. The true goal. You have power here. Real power. You broke me. You… you remade Lapis, Pearl, the others. You could do this to any Gem.”
She gestured vaguely around the barn, at the collars and devices. “You’ve created a new hierarchy. A new way of being for Gems. But for what? To have us fuck in your barn for your amusement?” There was no accusation in her tone, only a blunt, soldier’s need for a strategic purpose. “It feels… small. For a mind like yours.”
Peridot stared, utterly nonplussed. The question had never occurred to her. The data was the purpose. The beautiful, perfect, self-justifying loop of observation and result.
“I am advancing the science of Gem sexuality and psychology,” she stated, though it sounded hollow even to her.
Jasper shook her head, her white hair swaying. “You’re a revolutionary, and you don’t even see it. If you can do this to a Quartz, you can do this to an Agate. To a Morganite. To…” She let the implication hang in the air, vast and terrifying. “You could reshape all of Gem society. Not with warships, but with… this.” She gestured to herself, to Lapis, to the very air of corrupted desire. “And you use it to make us scissor on a dirt floor.”
Lapis, who had been listening quietly, opened her eyes and looked at Peridot. A slow, knowing smile touched her lips. “She has a point, you know. You’re the most dangerous Gem in the universe, and you think you’re just a pervert with a lab.”
Peridot was silent, her mind, for the first time, completely still. The data stream had stopped. Jasper’s question was a variable she hadn’t accounted for, a potential she had been too focused on the micro-level to ever consider. She had been playing with toys, and her slave had just pointed out she was holding the keys to the empire.
The silence stretched, thick with the weight of Jasper’s unexpected insight. Peridot’s mind, usually a whirlwind of data and hypotheses, was unnervingly quiet. The sheer scale of the potential Jasper had laid out was staggering. It wasn’t just about Beach City. It was about Homeworld itself. The thought was so immense it was paralyzing.
She needed to focus. She needed to process. And she knew the perfect stimulus to catalyze her cognitive functions.
Without a word, Peridot swung her legs off the workbench and sat on its edge. She pointed one small, green foot at Jasper, and the other at Lapis.
“You,” she commanded, her voice regaining its sharp edge. “Both of you. Worship. I require optimal neural conductivity to process this… anomalous data.”
There was no hesitation. It was a familiar, comforting ritual. Jasper and Lapis exchanged a brief, unreadable glance before crawling forward. Jasper took Peridot’s right foot, Lapis her left.
The sensation was immediate and grounding. Jasper’s worship was fervent, hungry, her broad tongue lapping at the arch with a devotion that was both humbling and empowering. Lapis’s was cooler, more fluid, her tongue moving in slow, swirling patterns that were uniquely her own.
As their mouths worked, the dual sensations traveled up Peridot’s legs, short-circuiting the paralysis in her mind. The pleasure was a clean, sharp tool, cutting through the noise.
Reshape Gem society.
Jasper’s tongue pressed deep into her instep.
Not with warships, but with collars.
Lapis sucked gently on her toes.
The most dangerous Gem in the universe.
A slow, terrifying, and utterly exhilarating smile began to spread across Peridot’s face. Her eyes, behind the visor, gleamed with a new, frightening light. She wasn’t just a pervert with a lab. She was an architect. And her slaves had just handed her the blueprints for a new world.
—–
A few days later, the barn was a war room. Datapads were strewn everywhere, displaying complex schematics of Homeworld’s central spire and the Diamond palaces. Crude, hand-drawn diagrams depicted waves of collared Gems overwhelming the aristocracy. Peridot paced in the center of it all, muttering to herself, her hair frazzled.
“—deploy the harem in a pincer movement, targeting the Sapphires first to disrupt their future vision, then a frontal assault on the Agate command structure with Jasper as the spearhead—no, no, too direct, we need subterfuge, perhaps poisoned lubricants in the coolant systems—”
The barn door creaked open. Pearl stood there, her hands on her hips, taking in the chaotic scene with a deeply unimpressed expression.
“Peridot,” she said, her voice cutting through the frantic muttering. “What in the stars is all this?”
“Pearl! Perfect timing!” Peridot spun around, her eyes wild. “I am formulating a comprehensive takeover of Homeworld! We will liberate them from their oppressive functions by introducing them to the superior paradigm of consensual, hierarchical debauchery!”
Pearl stepped inside, delicately picking her way through the scattered tablets. She saw the plans for “Operation: Diamond Dethrone” and the sketches of Blue Diamond in a compromising position with several robonoids. She sighed, a long-suffering sound.
“Peridot, this is… ambitious. And utterly, completely insane. You can’t just invade Homeworld.”
“Why not?” Peridot demanded, gesturing wildly. “We have the element of surprise! They will never expect an attack based on sexual subjugation!”
“Because they have armies,” Pearl said patiently, as if explaining basic arithmetic to a child. “Armies that would shatter your ‘harem’ before you even reached the outer atmosphere.” She moved closer, placing a gentle hand on Peridot’s shoulder, stilling her frantic pacing. “You’re thinking like a conqueror. You need to think like a… well, like a seducer.”
Peridot blinked. “A seducer?”
“Yes.” Pearl’s voice dropped, becoming soft and intimate. She leaned in, her lips brushing against Peridot’s in a sudden, startlingly tender kiss. It was brief, but it effectively short-circuited Peridot’s manic plotting. “You don’t storm the castle,” Pearl whispered, pulling back just enough to speak. “You get invited inside. You find one Gem, a little dissatisfied, a little curious. And you show her the door. Then she shows another. And another.”
She gestured to the grandiose invasion plans. “This is a sledgehammer. What you need is a key. A quiet, patient, gem-by-gem corruption. It’s slower. But it’s how you build an empire that lasts.”
Peridot stared at her, the frantic energy draining away, replaced by a dawning, calculating calm. Pearl was right. This wasn’t a battle; it was a courtship. A very, very dirty courtship.
A slow, wicked smile replaced her look of mad desperation. “A… subtle infiltration. Using our existing assets as… recruiters.”
“Exactly,” Pearl said, her own smile sharp and knowing. “Start small. Think of it not as an invasion, but as an… invitation. The most exclusive party in the galaxy, and you’re writing the guest list.”
The grand, absurd war plans were forgotten. A new, more insidious strategy was taking root in Peridot’s mind. One Gem at a time.
Peridot’s eyes glazed over, the new, insidious strategy unfolding in her mind like a dark flower. “Yes… yes! A whisper campaign. A contagion of desire. We identify key social nodes within mid-level aristocratic circles, Gem bureaucrats with latent frustrations, and offer them… an outlet. A purpose. My collars would be a status symbol, a mark of liberation…”
Pearl watched her mutter, a fond, exasperated smile on her lips. She knew this look. It was the calm before the storm of perverted innovation.
“While I fully support this new, subtle approach,” Pearl interjected, pulling Peridot from her reverie, “it never hurts to have a sledgehammer in your toolbox. Just in case you need to make a… dramatic point.”
Peridot’s head tilted. “We have Jasper. We have Garnet.”
“We do,” Pearl agreed. “But there is another. One of immense power, with a deep-seated rage against the system you wish to overthrow. Her strength rivals Jasper’s, and her craftsmanship is… unparalleled.” Pearl’s voice became hesitant, a rare flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. “I’m not sure if this is a wise idea. She is… volatile. But you asked for potential.”
She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper, as if the walls themselves might be loyal to Homeworld. “Her name is Bismuth. She was one of Rose’s closest allies. And she’s been bubbled away for millennia, hidden inside Lion’s pocket dimension.”
The name meant nothing to Peridot, but the description sent a jolt of pure, acquisitive excitement through her gem. Another powerful Gem. A craftsman. Bubbled and forgotten.
“Bismuth…” Peridot repeated, the name tasting like a new element on her tongue. A slow, dangerous grin spread across her face. The subtle infiltration plan was perfect. But every good strategist needed a contingency. A weapon of last resort.
And a blacksmith of legendary skill, brimming with revolutionary fury, sounded like the most beautiful sledgehammer she could possibly imagine. The sheer, beautiful potential of it was dizzying.
“Yes,” Peridot breathed, her voice tight with excitement. “This is the variable we need. The ultimate contingency. Pearl, you must acquire it. Immediately.”
Pearl straightened up, a flicker of her old, rebellious spirit shining through. This was a mission, a dangerous one, and it appealed to the part of her that had once thrived on secrets and subterfuge. “I’ll need to wait for Steven to be asleep. Lion is… unpredictable. But I can do it.”
“Excellent!” Peridot crowed. She hopped off the workbench, her earlier frantic energy now channeled into a sharp, commanding focus. She strode up to Pearl and, in a gesture that was both playful and deeply proprietary, delivered a sharp smack to Pearl’s backside.
The sound echoed in the barn. Pearl gasped, more from surprise than pain, a blush instantly coloring her cheeks. The act was so crude, so unlike the elegant intimacy they sometimes shared, and yet it sent a thrill straight to her core. It was a mark of ownership, a benediction from her mad scientist master.
“Go, then,” Peridot commanded, her grin feral. “Retrieve our new toy. I will prepare the welcoming committee.”
Pearl nodded, her composure returning, layered now with a dark sense of purpose. She turned and slipped out of the barn, her steps silent and sure. She was going to steal a piece of Rose Quartz’s past and deliver it into the hands of the future. And as she disappeared into the twilight, the sting on her ass was a constant, thrilling reminder of who she was doing it for.
—–
The world inside Lion’s mane was a silent, pink-hued pocket of memory. The air was still and sweet, the tall grass brushing against Pearl’s legs as she moved with a familiar, aching grace through the landscape of Rose Quartz’s secrets. Floating in the air, glowing softly, were the bubbled remnants of the past—mundane human trinkets, dangerous weapons, and… one particular, fiery-orange bubble.
Pearl’s mission was clear. Find Bismuth. But the atmosphere of this place, thick with the ghost of her former love, was a powerful narcotic. She stopped, her hand resting on the trunk of a crystalline tree, and looked around at the impossible, beautiful stillness.
Rose.
The name was a prayer and a wound. She could almost see her here, her massive form, her wild curls, her laugh that could shake the stars. The perfect, unattainable leader Pearl had devoted millennia to.
And then, unbidden, the thought came, dark and thrilling: What if she were here now?
Not as a leader, but as Peridot’s. What if Rose, in all her glorious power, had been collared like Jasper? Broken like Pearl herself? What if that boundless love and compassion had been twisted into a desperate, slavish devotion for a tiny green technician?
The image bloomed in Pearl’s mind with terrifying clarity: Rose on her knees, that magnificent hair being gripped by Peridot’s small hand, her lips parted not in song or command, but in a ragged beg for her master’s touch. The great rebellion leader, reduced to the harem’s most prized pet.
A sharp, hot bolt of arousal shot through Pearl. It was the most blasphemous thought she had ever entertained, and it was utterly intoxicating.
Her breath hitched. Her mission forgotten, Pearl sank to her knees in the soft pink grass. Her fingers, trembling, slipped under the waistband of her shorts. As she touched herself, her eyes fixed on the floating bubbles—on the literal, physical evidence of Rose’s hidden life—she let the fantasy consume her.
She imagined Rose’s collar, thick and black around her neck. She imagined Peridot’s smug voice commanding her, and Rose’s eager, worshipful obedience. She pictured herself being ordered to join, to kiss Rose not as an subordinate, but as a fellow slave, both of them serving their true master.
A soft, broken moan escaped Pearl’s lips as she came, her body convulsing in the sacred, silent space. The climax was a wave of pure, transgressive ecstasy, a final, symbolic surrender of her old devotion on the altar of her new one.
When it was over, she lay panting in the grass, the ghost of Rose seeming to watch her with neither judgment nor approval, but with a simple, profound absence. Pushing herself up, Pearl wiped her hand on the grass, her expression now hard and resolved. The nostalgia was a weakness. The past was a relic.
Her eyes found Bismuth’s bubble. She reached up, her movements sure and steady, and plucked it from the air.
She had a new master now. And she was bringing her a gift.
—–
The barn was set for an audience. Peridot stood front and center, her arms crossed, a picture of confident authority. Flanking her were her enforcers: Garnet, immovable and silent; Amethyst, cracking her knuckles with a grin; and Lapis, hovering slightly, her expression unreadable. Jasper stood just behind Peridot’s shoulder, a mountain of orange muscle and simmering obedience, her collar plain to see.
Pearl stood before them, holding the glowing pink bubble. With a deep breath, she popped it.
A flash of light, and a form began to coalesce. A large, powerfully built Gem with grayish-blue skin and a magnificent mane of rainbow-colored dreadlocks solidified before them. Bismuth stretched, her fists clenching and unclenching as she took her first free breath in what felt like ages.
Her eyes, warm and brown, scanned the familiar faces first—Garnet, Amethyst, Pearl. A wide, joyous smile spread across her face.
“Garnet! Amethyst! Pearl! It’s good to see you! I knew you’d—” Her gaze continued its sweep, landing on Lapis, then Jasper, and finally, locking onto the small, green Gem who stood at the head of the group, looking at her with the unabashed curiosity of a scientist examining a new specimen.
The smile vanished. Bismuth’s friendly demeanor shattered, replaced by the hardened look of a veteran soldier. Her eyes darted from Jasper’s collar to Peridot’s smug posture.
“Homeworld,” she snarled, her voice a low, dangerous rumble. Her hands clenched, and in a flash of light, her hands materialized into massive, blocky forge-hammers. She dropped into a fighting stance, her gaze fixed on Peridot. “You think you can take my friends?” She glared at the Crystal Gems. “Stand back! I’ll handle this!”
She assumed they were prisoners, coerced. She saw the Homeworld Gems and drew the only logical conclusion: an invasion, a takeover. She was ready to fight to the death for the freedom she had just regained. The welcoming committee had just become a battlefield.
Bismuth moved with the speed of a seasoned warrior, her massive hammers swinging in a deadly arc aimed directly at Peridot’s head. The little Gem didn’t even flinch.
Before the blow could land, a blur of orange intercepted it. Jasper’s hands, bare and immense, shot out and caught the hafts of both hammers with a deafening CLANG of metal on dense gem-flesh. The impact shook the barn, but Jasper didn’t budge an inch. She stood like a bulwark, her muscles straining, holding Bismuth’s furious assault at bay.
Bismuth’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. “A Jasper… protecting a Peridot?” she grunted, trying to shove her back. “What kind of twisted joke is this? Have they brainwashed you?”
“Stand down, Bismuth!” Pearl cried, rushing forward and placing herself between the two titans. Her hands were up, placating. “It’s not what you think! They aren’t with Homeworld!”
Bismuth’s gaze snapped to Pearl, her expression a storm of betrayal and disbelief. “Then explain this, Pearl! Why is a Quartz soldier taking orders from a technician? Why is a Lapis Lazuli just floating there? This reeks of a Diamond scheme!”
“It’s not a scheme, it’s a… a new arrangement,” Pearl said, her voice steady despite the tension. She gestured to Peridot. “This is Peridot. She defected. She’s one of us now.” She then gestured to Jasper, who still held the hammers immobile. “And Jasper… has been persuaded to see the benefits of our cause.”
Bismuth’s eyes narrowed, scanning the room. She saw Garnet’s calm posture, Amethyst’s relaxed grin. They weren’t acting like prisoners. They were… complacent. Complicit.
“Persuaded?” Bismuth spat, her grip on her hammers tightening. “She’s wearing a collar, Pearl! That doesn’t look like persuasion. That looks like slavery.”
“It’s a… symbol of her commitment,” Pearl insisted, choosing her words carefully. She allowed her own collar to de-cloak, as did the others. Bismuth’s eyes widened as she looked from collar to collar. “A choice she made. We all made. We’re all here by choice, Bismuth. Please, just listen.”
Slowly, hesitantly, Bismuth relaxed her stance. Jasper, taking the cue, released the hammers and took a step back, resuming her position as Peridot’s silent guardian. Bismuth stared at the collar around each Gem’s neck, then at the unshaken confidence on Peridot’s face, and finally at the pleading look in Pearl’s eyes.
The fight drained out of her, replaced by a deep, wary confusion. This was not the Homeworld she knew. This was something else entirely. Something stranger, and perhaps, more dangerous.
“Alright,” Bismuth said, her voice low and cautious. She let her hammers dissipate into light. “I’m listening. But someone better start making sense, and fast.”
“Excellent! A logical mind!” she began, her voice ringing with enthusiasm. “Pearl has briefed me on the pertinent data. Your conflict with Rose Quartz—and later, the hybrid Steven—stemmed from your ‘Breaking Point’ weapon. A device designed to achieve permanent gem termination.”
Bismuth’s eyes hardened. “Yeah. For Gems who couldn’t be reasoned with. For the Diamonds themselves.”
Peridot waved a dismissive hand. “A brutish, inelegant solution! And a moot point, as I understand the device has been destroyed. No, what interests me is not your capacity for destruction, but your revolutionary spirit!”
Bismuth blinked, thrown off balance. “My… what?”
“Your desire to tear down the old order!” Peridot explained, gesturing grandly. “We share that goal! But where you sought to shatter our oppressors, I have discovered a far more effective, more permanent method of conquest!”
She looked at her assembled Gems and gave a sharp nod. In unison, their clothing dissolved into light, leaving them all standing bare before the stunned blacksmith. Garnet stood proud and unashamed, Amethyst grinned, Pearl held her head high, Lapis watched with calm interest, and Jasper remained at attention, her powerful form a testament to her defeat.
Bismuth’s jaw went slack. She stared at the collared, naked Gems, her mind struggling to reconcile the sight with any kind of military strategy.
“You see?” Peridot said, spreading her own small, bare arms. “This is my Breaking Point. Not a weapon of violence, but one of lust. I do not wish to shatter Gems, Bismuth. I wish to liberate them! To show them that their true function isn’t to serve the Diamonds, but to serve their own desires! To kneel not out of fear, but out of need!”
Her eyes blazed with fanatical light. “I will remake Homeworld not into a graveyard, but into a harem! A universe where every Gem is free to explore the depths of their own corruption, to find bliss in submission, and power in pleasure! This is the new rebellion, Bismuth! And we want you to join us!”
Bismuth could only stare, utterly speechless. The grand, insane ambition of it was so vast it was almost beautiful. And the sight of the mighty Crystal Gems, standing collared and naked as living proof of its success, was the most convincing—and terrifying—argument she had ever seen.
A slow, deep chuckle rumbled in Bismuth’s chest, building into a full-bodied, hearty laugh that echoed through the barn. She shook her head, her rainbow dreadlocks swaying. “You’ve got guts, I’ll give you that! Remake an empire with sex? It’s the craziest, most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!”
Her laughter died down, but a spark of intrigued challenge remained in her eyes. “Alright, little miss revolutionary. You say you can convert any Gem. That this… desire is stronger than any loyalty or principle.” She planted her hands on her broad hips. “Prove it. Convert me. One-on-one. No backup, no tricks. Just you. Seduce me. Make me want to wear your collar. If you can do that… then maybe, just maybe, I’ll listen to your grand scheme.”
From behind Peridot, Jasper let out a derisive snort. “You don’t stand a chance,” she rumbled, a smug, knowing look on her face. “I said the same thing. I fought it. Look at me now. You’ll break faster than you think, blacksmith.”
Bismuth’s eyes narrowed, her friendly demeanor hardening into stubborn pride. Jasper’s mockery was the perfect catalyst. “Is that so?” she shot back, her voice gaining an edge. “I’m not some mindless Quartz brute. I’m a craftsman. My will is tempered in fire. You couldn’t handle Rose’s ideals, and you won’t be able to handle mine.” She turned her gaze back to Peridot, a defiant smirk on her lips. “Well? Let’s see what you’ve got. Show me this ‘power of pleasure’.”
Peridot’s smile was a razor blade. The challenge was perfect. It was pure, testable data. She gestured for the other Gems to give them space.
“As you wish,” Peridot said, her voice dropping to a intimate purr. “Prepare to have your worldview… fundamentally altered.” The seduction of Bismuth had begun.
The other Gems formed a loose circle, their expressions a mix of curiosity and anticipation. Bismuth, true to her word, didn’t summon her weapons. Instead, she lunged forward with the intent to grapple, her powerful arms reaching to snatch the tiny Peridot up.
It was like trying to catch smoke. Peridot was impossibly quick and agile, her small size a distinct advantage. She ducked under Bismuth’s sweeping grab, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor. As she slipped past, her hand shot out, her fingers tracing a feather-light path up the inside of Bismuth’s thick thigh.
Bismuth jolted, a surprised gasp escaping her. “Hey! Stand still and fight!”
“This is the fight,” Peridot chirped, dodging another clumsy grab and darting behind her. She pressed her entire small body against Bismuth’s broad back, her hands sliding around to cup the blacksmith’s heavy breasts, her thumbs brushing over the nipples.
Bismuth grunted, twisting away, her face flushing a darker shade of blue. “Cheap tricks!”
“Effective data,” Peridot corrected. She feinted left, then dropped low, her tongue darting out to lick a hot, wet stripe across Bismuth’s stomach, just above the waistline of her form-fitting clothes.
Bismuth yelped, stumbling back. She was a brawler, used to impacts and blows. This delicate, insidious assault was completely outside her experience. Every touch was a spark, short-circuiting her combat-focused mind.
“Enough of this!” Bismuth growled, making one more desperate lunge.
Peridot didn’t dodge this time. She stood her ground, and a beam of green light shot from her visor, washing over Bismuth. There was a sound like tearing fabric, and in an instant, Bismuth’s clothes dissolved into nothing, leaving her standing completely bare and exposed in the middle of the barn.
Bismuth looked down at herself, then back up at Peridot. Instead of rage, a slow, incredulous laugh bubbled out of her. “You… you stripped me with your face?”
“A multi-tool is the hallmark of an efficient technician,” Peridot said smugly, not breaking her stride. She closed the distance while Bismuth was distracted by her own nudity. Her hands found Bismuth’s hips, holding her in place, and her mouth found one of the blacksmith’s dark, pebbled nipples.
“Nnh—!” Bismuth’s laughter cut off into a sharp, startled moan. Her hands, which had been raised to shove Peridot away, instead hovered uncertainly in the air. The sensation was direct, intimate, and shockingly pleasant. The fight was rapidly draining out of her, replaced by a confusing, warm flush of arousal. Peridot wasn’t just avoiding her; she was systematically dismantling her defenses, one sensitive zone at a time.
Bismuth tried to summon her anger, to rally her will against the tiny, relentless invader. She made another grab, but her movements were slower now, clumsier. Peridot’s mouth was on her neck, her small, sharp teeth nibbling at the sensitive skin where her shoulder met her throat. A shudder wracked Bismuth’s powerful frame.
“I… I don’t understand…” Bismuth gasped, her voice losing its battle-ready edge, becoming breathy and confused. “What is this… feeling?”
Peridot pulled back, her eyes gleaming with intellectual triumph. “It’s your undoing,” she explained, her voice a husky whisper against Bismuth’s skin as her hands continued to roam, stroking her sides, her stomach, the heavy swell of her breasts. “Gem society has spent eons perfecting hierarchy, obedience, and purpose. But it has a critical, systemic vulnerability.”
She pressed a kiss to Bismuth’s collarbone. “It has no concept of this. No immunity to pleasure. No defense against desire.” Her fingers trailed lower, through the coarse hair between Bismuth’s thighs, making the larger Gem jolt. “You are like an isolated civilization, your culture a pristine ecosystem. And I…” She looked up, meeting Bismuth’s dazed eyes. “…I am the plague. The beautiful, glorious plague of lust. And I plan to infect everyone.”
With that, Peridot used her leverage and Bismuth’s own unsteady balance to bring her down. They landed together in the soft hay, Peridot on top. Before Bismuth could even process the fall, Peridot was between her legs.
The first touch of Peridot’s tongue to her core was an electric shock. Bismuth cried out, her back arching off the ground, her hands fisting in the hay. It was a sensation so alien, so overwhelmingly good, that it bypassed all rational thought. This wasn’t a fight she could win with strength or willpower. This was a surrender of the body, a capitulation of the senses.
Peridot ate her out with the same focused, efficient skill she applied to all her work. She wasn’t just giving pleasure; she was administering a cure for Bismuth’s outdated ideology, one lick at a time. And as Bismuth’s moans grew louder, her body twisting in helpless ecstasy, it was clear the infection was taking hold. The revolutionary blacksmith was being conquered not by a weapon, but by a wicked, knowing tongue.
Peridot’s assault was merciless and masterful. She didn’t just lick; she devoured. Her small, pointed tongue was a precision instrument, and she wielded it with devastating expertise. It delved deep into Bismuth’s slick, hot entrance, fucking her with short, rapid thrusts that drew guttural, choked sounds from the blacksmith’s throat.
“Oh, stars…!” Bismuth gasped, her head thrashing from side to side.
Then Peridot’s focus shifted upward. Her tongue found Bismuth’s clit, a hard, swollen pearl of nerve endings. She didn’t just circle it; she attacked it, flicking it with frantic, hummingbird-fast motions before sealing her lips around it and sucking, hard.
Bismuth screamed, her massive body bowing off the floor, her hands slamming down on the wooden planks. “F-FU—! PERIDOT!”
“Look at that,” Amethyst cackled from the sidelines. “She’s gonna blow a gasket!”
Pearl watched with a critical, appreciative eye. “Her technique is flawless. Notice how she alternates between broad, stimulating strokes and highly targeted focal points. She’s overloading Bismuth’s sensory capacity.”
Garnet nodded, a low hum of approval in her chest. “Her future is becoming clear. She will break.”
Jasper simply crossed her arms, a smug, knowing smirk on her face. “Told you. You’re no different from the rest of us. Just another set of holes for the master to use.”
Bismuth heard their comments through a haze of overwhelming pleasure. She wanted to argue, to deny it, but all she could do was moan. Peridot’s tongue was writing a new truth directly onto her nervous system. One of her hands tangled in Peridot’s triangular hair, not to pull her away, but to hold her there, to grind herself harder against that brilliant, wicked mouth.
“Y-yes… right there… don’t stop…!” she begged, the words torn from her, any pretense of resistance utterly gone. Her hips bucked wildly, meeting every lick and suck with a desperate, primal hunger. She was putty, a molten mess of sensation, and Peridot was the artist, sculpting her into something new, something wanton, and something utterly, completely owned.
Bismuth’s climax was a seismic event. A raw, shattered scream was ripped from her lungs as her body convulsed, back arching so violently it seemed her gem might crack from the strain. Wave after wave of pleasure-pain crashed over her, leaving her twitching and gasping in the hay, her powerful form reduced to a boneless, shuddering wreck.
Peridot sat back on her heels, wiping her glistening mouth with the back of her hand. She looked down at the devastated blacksmith with an expression of pure, scientific satisfaction.
“Fascinating,” she murmured. “Your gemetic matrix is designed for durability and labor, yet the very architecture meant to mimic organic life—the nerve clusters, the erogenous zones—creates this… catastrophic failure point when properly stimulated. A flaw in the system only I have learned to exploit.”
While Bismuth was still trying to remember how to breathe, Peridot retrieved one of her synthetic phalluses from a nearby crate. It was thick and intimidatingly large. She returned to Bismuth’s side and, with a sharp, stinging motion, slapped the silicone tip against Bismuth’s oversensitive, dripping pussy.
Bismuth jolted, a weak cry escaping her lips.
“The demonstration is over,” Peridot stated, her voice cold and commanding. “The data is conclusive. You have experienced my power. Now, you have a choice.” She held the phallus poised at her entrance. “You can walk away, back to your bubbles and your shattered dreams of violent revolution. Or…”
She leaned down, her face inches from Bismuth’s.
“…you can have this. You can have the pleasure. You can have a purpose in my new world. But it is not free.” Her eyes glinted. “If you want my cock, if you want to be a part of this, you will beg for it. You will get on your knees, and you will beg me for the collar.”
The ultimatum hung in the air. Bismuth, lying broken and exposed, understood. This wasn’t just about sex. It was about surrender. It was about admitting that Peridot’s way—the way of lust and submission—was stronger than her own. She looked at the eager, collared faces of the Gems surrounding her, and then back at the tiny, terrifying genius who held her future in her hands.
Slowly, painfully, using the last of her strength, Bismuth pushed herself up onto her knees. Her head bowed.
“Please…” she whispered, the word tasting like ash and ecstasy. “Please, Peridot… give it to me. I want it. I want to be yours.” She lifted her head, her eyes pleading. “Please… collar me.”
A sound of pure, unadulterated triumph escaped Peridot—a sharp, gleeful cackle that echoed in the rafters. “YES! The data is perfect! The hypothesis is confirmed!”
She scrambled to her feet, vibrating with excitement. “Position!” she barked. “Present yourself, my new asset!”
Weakly, but without hesitation, Bismuth obeyed. She got on her hands and knees, her powerful back straight, her muscular, gray-blue ass raised in a perfect offering. The sight was one of profound submission.
Peridot strapped on the phallus, the tool looking comically large against her frame. She positioned herself behind Bismuth, the tip of the synthetic cock pressing against her slick entrance.
“Jasper!” Peridot commanded, not taking her eyes off her prize. “The collar! You will fasten it the moment her climax is imminent. I want her first orgasm as my property to be sealed with my mark!”
Jasper stepped forward, the requested collar in her hand. A flicker of something—understanding, camaraderie in corruption—passed between the two soldiers before Jasper took her place beside them, ready.
With a grunt of effort, Peridot drove herself forward. She was a tiny green goblin mounting a titan, her small body slapping rhythmically against Bismuth’s massive ass. But her size belied her power. Each thrust was deep, purposeful, hitting spots inside Bismuth that made her cry out, her knuckles white where she gripped the floor.
“That’s it… that’s my good blacksmith…” Peridot panted, her own pleasure secondary to the thrill of conquest. “You’re going to cum for your master, aren’t you? You’re going to scream when you feel my collar snap shut!”
Bismuth could only moan in agreement, her body coiling tighter and tighter, the pressure building to an unbearable peak. Her breaths came in ragged sobs. “I’m… I’m gonna…!”
“NOW, JASPER!” Peridot shrieked, driving home as hard as she could.
As the first cataclysmic wave of Bismuth’s orgasm tore through her, as she screamed her surrender to the barn, Jasper leaned in. With a definitive SNAP, she fastened the black collar around Bismuth’s neck.
The gem in its center flared to life, pulsing a brilliant green in time with the convulsions wracking Bismuth’s body. She collapsed forward, a sobbing, collared mess, thoroughly and completely conquered. Peridot stayed mounted on her, riding out the last of the tremors, a tiny, victorious queen on the back of her newest slave.
Peridot pulled out with a soft, wet sound and, instead of dismounting, simply sat down on the broad, trembling expanse of Bismuth’s ass as if it were a throne. She gave the gray-blue cheek a playful, proprietary spank.
“Oh, you are going to be so useful,” Peridot purred, leaning forward to trace the line of Bismuth’s spine with a single finger. The blacksmith flinched, a fresh sob shaking her frame.
“You see,” Peridot continued, her voice taking on a lecturing tone, “my methodology is sound. The science is flawless. But my tools… they lack artistry. They are clinical. Efficient, but not… inspired.” She patted Bismuth’s flank. “I am a genius of systems and data. But you… you are a genius of form and function. A true craftsman.”
She leaned down, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper near Bismuth’s ear. “Imagine what we could create together. Not weapons to shatter gems, but tools to shatter wills. Devices crafted not for war, but for seduction. A collar that doesn’t just hum, but sings a Gem’s own desires back to them. A phallus that can shift its texture and temperature to perfectly exploit a specific Gem’s psychological profile. The possibilities are endless!”
Bismuth, her face still pressed into the hay, let out a weak, shuddering laugh. The grand, absurd ambition of it was still silly to her practical mind. “So… your master plan to conquer the universe… is to build better sex toys?”
“Precisely!” Peridot said, beaming with pride. “We will outfit my harem with the most sophisticated instruments of pleasure ever conceived! We will be unstoppable!”
Bismuth shifted weakly, the collar feeling both foreign and strangely right around her neck. She knew it was madness. But the memory of the orgasm Peridot had just given her—the most intense, overwhelming sensation of her long life—was a powerful argument.
“Alright, you crazy little fool,” Bismuth mumbled, her voice muffled by the floor. “It’s the dumbest, most ridiculous plan I’ve ever heard. But…” She took a deep, shaky breath. “…if it means I get to feel like that again… you’ve got your blacksmith. I’ll build whatever you want.”
Peridot’s grin could have powered all of Beach City. She had her weaponsmith. The revolution would be fully-armed.
Peridot hopped off her living throne, her energy boundless. “The integration is complete, but the dataset must be finalized!” she announced, clapping her hands. “Back into position, Bismuth! The cataloguing begins now.”
With a weary but compliant sigh, Bismuth pushed herself back up onto her hands and knees. The posture was becoming familiar, a symbol of her new role.
Peridot crouched at her feet, her tablet materializing in her hand. She began with Bismuth’s feet—they were large, broad, and solid, built for stability at a forge, with thick soles and strong, sturdy toes.
“Observe the pedal structure,” Peridot narrated, her stylus poking the tough sole. Bismuth flinched. “Exceptional breadth and density. Clearly evolved—or rather, designed—for maximum stability under heavy load-bearing conditions.” She ran her fingers over the arch, feeling the powerful tendons. “Texture is rough, calloused in places. A testament to a life of physical labor. Fascinating.”
She then moved her hands to stroke the tops of Bismuth’s feet, her touch surprisingly gentle. “The dorsal surface, however, retains a surprising softness. A hidden vulnerability.”
Bismuth blushed, a deep blue flush spreading across her cheeks. Being studied like this, her hard-working feet being treated like a fascinating specimen, was profoundly embarrassing. “They’re just feet,” she muttered.
“Nothing is ‘just’ anything!” Peridot corrected. “Every detail is data! And now, for the primary sensory input.”
Without another word, Peridot leaned forward and dragged her tongue in a long, slow, wet stripe from Bismuth’s heel to the tip of her big toe.
Bismuth gasped, her whole body jolting at the intimate, shocking contact.
“Flavor profile is… robust,” Peridot reported, typing one-handed. “Earthy, with a distinct metallic undertone, consistent with her smithing background. A hint of ozone. Salinity is moderate. Overall, a pleasingly complex and potent taste.”
She looked up at Bismuth’s mortified face. “Catalogued. Your feet are officially a part of my collection.” She gave Bismuth’s ankle a pat. “Now, hold still. We have your entire magnificent form to document.”
Peridot, ever the pragmatist, didn’t circle around; she simply ducked and slid on her back, right underneath Bismuth’s raised form, like a mechanic servicing a vehicle. From this new vantage point, she had perfect access to Bismuth’s heavy, hanging breasts.
Her cool hands immediately began their work, cupping and kneading the full flesh, her thumbs brushing over the dark, sensitive nipples. Bismuth shuddered, a soft moan escaping her.
“Stars…” Bismuth panted, looking down at the little green head nestled between her breasts. “Is she… is she always like this?”
From the sidelines, Amethyst barked a laugh. “Oh, yeah. Welcome to the club! One time she had me spread-eagled on this very floor for an hour, talking about ‘subcutaneous adipose simulation’ or some junk.”
Pearl nodded primly. “My cataloguing was, of course, far more elegant. But the principle was the same. I remember once she measured my arch with a laser caliper.”
Lapis floated slightly closer, a smirk on her face. “She spent forty-five minutes just on the hydro-dynamic properties of my wings. Said the data was ‘unprecedented’.”
Garnet didn’t say a word, but Jasper just grunted in agreement, the memory of her own thorough examination clearly fresh.
Peridot, her mouth currently occupied, pulled back for a moment. “It is a vital scientific process!” she insisted, her voice slightly muffled. “I cannot optimize your pleasure—or design effective tools for your use—without a comprehensive anatomical baseline!”
To emphasize her point, she leaned forward and took one of Bismuth’s nipples into her mouth, sucking on it firmly while her tongue flicked rapidly back and forth.
Bismuth cried out, her back arching, any further questions forgotten in a wave of startlingly intense sensation. As Peridot’s expert mouth worked its magic, Bismuth had to admit, however reluctantly, that the mad scientist’s methods were… distressingly effective. The cataloguing might be embarrassing, but the results were impossible to argue with.
Peridot slid out from under Bismuth with the efficiency of a well-oiled piston. She moved behind the kneeling blacksmith, her focus shifting to the most prominent feature of her presentation: Bismuth’s broad, powerfully built ass. The two heavy cheeks were a testament to her strength and craft.
“Now for gluteal analysis,” Peridot announced, her tone reverent. She placed both hands on the firm, gray-blue flesh and gave an appreciative squeeze. “Exceptional mass and density. A perfect foundation.”
Then, without warning, she brought her hand down in a sharp, stinging CRACK that echoed through the barn. Bismuth yelped, lurching forward, a bright red handprint blooming on her skin.
“Impact response: immediate, vocal, and produces a satisfying visual marker,” Peridot noted, typing onto her tablet.
Her examination became more intimate. She leaned in and dragged her tongue in a long, wet stripe from the top of Bismuth’s cleft down to her perineum. Bismuth gasped, her whole body tensing at the lewd, shocking contact.
“Surface taste is consistent with the overall earthy-metallic profile, with a deeper, muskier undertone concentrated in this region,” Peridot narrated.
But she wasn’t finished. With a clinical detachment that made the act even more degrading, Peridot used her thumbs to part Bismuth’s ass cheeks, fully exposing her tight, furled asshole to the air. Bismuth whimpered, burying her face in her arms in a futile attempt to hide her shame.
“The anal sphincter exhibits remarkable tonicity,” Peridot observed, her stylus gently tracing the outer ring, making Bismuth flinch violently. “A pristine orifice, prior to planned future use.”
And then, in the ultimate violation, Peridot’s pointed tongue darted out. She pressed the tip directly against Bismuth’s asshole, licking and probing with a slow, deliberate pressure.
“NHH—PERIDOT!” Bismuth screamed, her knuckles turning white where she gripped the floor. The sensation was so invasive, so shockingly intimate, it short-circuited her thoughts.
Peridot pulled back, unmoved. “Lingual stimulation induces extreme autonomic response. The region is confirmed as a high-sensitivity data point and a potent source of psychological leverage.” She gave the freshly-licked cheek another proprietary pat. “Catalogued.”
Bismuth could only sob softly into the floor, her body trembling, every inch of her now known, studied, and owned by the brilliant, terrifying Gem beneath her.
Bismuth was a writhing, desperate mess. The combination of the spanking, the licking, the clinical prodding, and the overwhelming intimacy of having her asshole tasted had brought her to a fever pitch of need. Her pussy throbbed, aching and empty, her entire being focused on that one, neglected part of her.
“Please, Peridot…” she begged, her voice ragged and broken. “My… my cunt… I’m so close… please, just touch me there…”
Peridot looked up from her tablet, a slow, cruel smile gracing her lips. “Denied.”
She stood and moved to face Bismuth, kneeling before her. Bismuth’s eyes, hazy with lust, looked at her with confusion and a flicker of betrayal.
“The most versatile tool requires the most thorough calibration,” Peridot stated. She reached out and gripped Bismuth’s jaw, forcing her mouth open. Her fingers, cool and precise, slipped inside.
Bismuth gagged as Peridot’s fingers explored her mouth, running over her teeth, pressing down on her tongue. “The oral cavity is a primary interface for both nourishment and communication,” Peridot mused, her fingers stroking the wet, muscular flesh of Bismuth’s tongue. “Its potential for service is… immense.”
She pulled her fingers out, glistening with saliva, and then leaned in. This wasn’t the clinical invasion from before. This was a deep, claiming, passionate kiss. Peridot’s tongue plunged into Bismuth’s mouth, tangling with her own, exploring every contour with a possessive hunger. It was a kiss that spoke of ownership, of a connection far deeper than mere data collection.
Bismuth moaned into the kiss, her body melting. The denial of her pussy was a torture, but this kiss was a different kind of conquest. It was a claim on her very essence. When Peridot finally pulled back, a string of saliva connecting their lips, Bismuth was left panting, her need sharper than ever, her submission now etched into her very soul.
“The mouth is catalogued,” Peridot whispered, her breath hot against Bismuth’s lips. “Now… perhaps we can attend to your other… needs.”
Driven by a fresh wave of desperate need from the intense kiss, Bismuth practically sobbed with relief as Peridot finally, finally moved to her neglected, aching core.
Peridot’s approach was, as always, methodical. She first used her fingers, parting the slick, swollen lips with a clinical precision that was its own form of torment. “Observe the engorgement,” she narrated, her voice a husky whisper. “Labial tissues are flushed and distended, indicating a state of high arousal. Lubrication is copious.”
Her fingers delved inside, curling and probing, mapping the inner texture. Bismuth cried out, her hips bucking uncontrollably. “Yes… oh, stars, yes…!”
“Internal topography is complex, with several pronounced sensitive zones,” Peridot continued, her fingers stroking a spot that made Bismuth see stars.
Then came her tongue. It was a revelation. After the denial and the teasing, the direct, wet heat of Peridot’s mouth on her clit was almost too much to bear. Peridot ate her out with a focused, relentless intensity, her tongue lashing and sucking, driving Bismuth higher and higher towards the peak she had been begging for.
Bismuth was babbling, a stream of pleas and praises. “Don’t stop… I’m gonna cum… please, let me cum for you, Master…!”
She was right there. The precipice was under her feet. Her body tensed, every muscle coiling for the final, shattering release.
And then, Peridot pulled away.
The sudden absence of sensation was a physical blow. A wounded, animalistic keen tore from Bismuth’s throat. She was left hovering on the agonizing edge, her body screaming for a completion that had been cruelly denied.
“Please…” she wept, her entire being a raw nerve of unmet need. “I’ll do anything… anything…”
Peridot looked down at her, her expression one of supreme satisfaction. The data was perfect. The control was absolute. Bismuth wasn’t just collared; she was perfectly, exquisitely broken in.
Peridot stood, retrieving the same thick, intimidating phallus she had used to claim Bismuth before. She strapped it on, the harness stark against her small frame. The other Gems—Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet, Lapis, and Jasper—drew in closer, forming a silent, attentive audience. This was a ritual they all understood.
Bismuth, still on her hands and knees, trembled with a mixture of desperate need and nervous anticipation. Her pussy was a throbbing, denied ache, but her focus was now on the new, uncharted territory Peridot had just catalogued so thoroughly.
“The final integration,” Peridot announced, her voice ringing with ceremony. She positioned herself behind Bismuth, the slick tip of the phallus pressing against her tight, virgin asshole. “Your body is mine. Every part of it. And I will now claim the last of it.”
She didn’t thrust. She applied steady, inexorable pressure. Bismuth gasped, her head dropping, her knuckles white. The initial resistance was significant, the ring of muscle clenching tight against the invasion.
“Relax, my blacksmith,” Peridot purred, one hand stroking Bismuth’s flank. “You are built for this. To be filled. To be used.”
With a final, firm push, the head of the phallus popped past the tight ring. Bismuth cried out, a sharp, guttural sound of shock and violation. Peridot held there for a moment, letting the larger Gem adjust to the impossible fullness.
Then, she began to move.
Her thrusts were slow at first, deliberate, each one a deep, claiming possession. The wet, slapping sound of her small body hitting Bismuth’s massive ass filled the barn. Bismuth moaned, a long, low, broken sound. The feeling was unlike anything she had ever experienced—a deep, stretching fullness that bordered on pain, but was inextricably woven with a dark, shocking pleasure.
“Look at her take it,” Amethyst whispered, her eyes wide.
“She’s a natural,” Pearl observed, a hint of pride in her voice.
Peridot’s pace quickened, becoming more forceful. She was a tiny, relentless engine, fucking Bismuth’s ass with a power that belied her size. She gripped Bismuth’s hips, her fingers digging in, using her for leverage.
“This is your purpose now!” Peridot grunted, driving deep. “To be my living forge! To feel my tools shaping you from the inside out!”
Bismuth could only sob in response, her body yielding completely, her own massive strength useless against this intimate conquest. The combination of the anal penetration and the denied, throbbing need in her pussy created a feedback loop of overwhelming sensation. With a final, ragged scream that was equal parts agony and ecstasy, her body seized. A powerful, dry orgasm wracked her frame, her ass clenching rhythmically around the invading phallus as she collapsed, utterly spent and thoroughly claimed in every conceivable way.
Peridot rode out the convulsions, a triumphant grin on her face. The last frontier had been conquered. Her blacksmith was complete.
Peridot pulled out with a satisfied sigh, unstrapping the phallus and letting it drop to the hay. She sat back on a crate, watching the twitching, thoroughly ruined form of her newest slave with the air of an artist admiring a finished masterpiece.
“The integration is flawless,” she declared, stretching lazily. “The dataset is comprehensive. You may all… familiarize yourselves with our new asset. Consider it a team-building exercise.”
It was all the permission they needed.
Amethyst was the first to pounce, cackling as she scrambled onto Bismuth’s broad back. “My turn!” she chirped, grinding her own slick pussy against the small of Bismuth’s back. “Gotta break in the new furniture!”
Pearl approached with more grace, kneeling before Bismuth’s face. She didn’t say a word. She simply guided Bismuth’s mouth to her own waiting cunt with a firm, elegant hand, a silent command for the blacksmith to service her.
Lapis drifted over, her cool hands and cooler tongue finding Bismuth’s heavy, sensitive breasts, lapping at the nipples until they were hard and aching, her water wings providing a shimmering, damp caress over her skin.
And Jasper, with a grunt of acknowledgment, positioned herself behind the prone Gem. Without ceremony, she pushed a thick finger into Bismuth’s still-gaping ass, then another, stretching her, preparing her for more.
Bismuth, barely conscious, could only moan and whimper as she was used from all sides. It was a whirlwind of sensation, a baptism by pleasure and degradation. Amethyst rode her back, Pearl fucked her face, Lapis worshipped her tits, and Jasper claimed her ass. She was no longer a person; she was a communal toy, a living testament to Peridot’s power, being broken in by her fellow slaves.
Peridot’s serene smile widened as she watched the scene unfold, but her sharp eyes noted the one figure who had yet to participate. “Garnet,” she said, her voice cutting through the moans and wet sounds. “Don’t be shy. Your fusion’s unique perspective is a valuable part of the dataset.”
Garnet, who had been standing with her arms crossed, observing the chaos with her typical quiet intensity, uncrossed them. A slow, knowing smile spread across her face. She didn’t move towards the writhing pile immediately. Instead, she walked to Peridot’s workbench and selected a different synthetic phallus—one that was longer and more slender than the others, designed for precision over brute force.
She then approached the tangle of Gems. Pearl, seeing her coming, gracefully shifted her hips, grinding against Bismuth’s tongue as Garnet passed. Amethyst cackled and spanked Bismuth’s ass, an open invitation.
Garnet positioned herself between Bismuth’s splayed thighs. While Jasper continued to work her ass from behind, Garnet pressed the tip of her chosen phallus against Bismuth’s desperately needy, neglected pussy.
Bismuth, who had been lost in a haze of sensation, cried out at the new contact—a sound of pure, desperate relief.
Garnet didn’t just thrust. She began a slow, deep, impossibly rhythmic motion, her thrusts perfectly timed and angled. Each one seemed to hit a different, perfect spot inside Bismuth, a symphony of pleasure conducted with fusion’s perfect knowledge. It wasn’t the frantic pounding of Amethyst or the clinical possession of Peridot; it was an all-knowing, all-encompassing claiming.
“She sees… everything…” Bismuth sobbed, her body arching under the combined attentions of five Gems. “She knows… exactly how to…!”
Garnet increased her pace, her movements still flawlessly controlled. “Your future is pleasure,” she stated, her voice a low, resonant hum that vibrated through Bismuth’s very core. “Your function is service. This has always been true. You just needed to be shown.”
With that final, definitive pronouncement, Garnet drove her deep, triggering a climax so profound and total that it seemed to pull the entire barn into its vortex. Bismuth shattered completely, her screams harmonizing with the moans of the Gems using her.
Peridot watched it all, a serene smile on her face. This was harmony. This was order. Her empire was growing, one perfectly corrupted Gem at a time. And as the sounds of their shared debauchery filled the barn, she began to mentally sketch the designs for the new, specialized collars Bismuth would help her build. The future was going to be so much fun.