No matter how her body might have been reacting, Alkaid's was an entirely different story. What was once all digital, codes and just data was now real, and sensitive. Everything felt that much more emphatic, beyond what she could have possibly imagined. To have a strap-on plunging into her asshole, finger twisting her nipple, hand brushing her sex again and again, all while the air was robbed from her lungs and brain, was enough to make the scared delirious girl squirm and moan herself hoarse.

There was something so wrong about how it was all beginning to make her feel, and she knew it. And knowing that, she didn't stop herself actively seeking it more. She pushed back against the crazy woman that knew how to destroy her, panting and gasping and squirming, oh she couldn't stop squirming.

"W-why?" She gasped. She couldn't understand. She had fans. She had a fan club. A following even. People drew art of her character kicking ass. It wasn't like she could understand that kind of affection. But this was...extreme. Beyond extreme. Frightening. And she was finding a certain addictive quality to it to that she couldn't quite disassociate. Even if it was all in her head...