Chapter 254: [R18] Playing Catch With a Demon

The buzzer had gone quiet a while back, but the noise from the crowd still echoed through the tunnels under the arena like distant thunder. Blacklist walked together toward their locker room, not rushing, talking over each other with nervous energy.

Jaz was laughing about one of Nash’s wild passes, Alicia kept thinking about the three-pointers she had missed, Nia waved her hands in front of her, checking her body for the third quarter. Only Mac stayed silent at the back, his face twisted like he knew this game was going the same way it always did: badly.

Nash trailed behind, walking slower than the others.

His legs felt like wet noodles. The Zone state rebound always drained him, but this time it hit harder, like his bones were stuffed with wet sand. Sweat still rolled down his chest and back. His vision narrowed at the edges, tunneling.

He kept his face blank, teeth clenched, trying not to show his exhaustion, but inside he was counting steps until he could sit down, slap ice on his legs, and just breathe.

Just make it to the locker room. Breathe. You pushed too hard again, idiot.

He was so focused on not tripping that he almost missed the girl leaning against the wall where the hallway split.

She was tall, really tall, probably five-ten in those sneakers, with golden skin under the ugly tunnel lights. Her bleached blonde hair was tied into two bouncy pigtails. Her face was sharp but doll-like, with too much makeup, smoky eyes with fake lashes, glossy pink lips wrapped around a bright red lollipop she sucked slowly, like she was trying to be sexy.

Her cropped jersey strained over her huge chest, the green and gold fabric looking ready to burst. Her shorts were slung low on her wide hips, barely covering her thick ass. Her thighs were thick too, the kind that could probably crush a watermelon between them.

She looked like she belonged on the cover of some dirty magazine, or a brothel, not standing in a sweaty, gross hallway.

Nash slowed, frowning. Something felt... off.

The girl tilted her head, pigtails swaying, and pulled the lollipop out with a loud pop. Her eyes dragged up and down his body like she was inspecting a prize steak.

"Wow~," she cooed in a sugary voice. "You’re even prettier up close than on TV, golden boy."

Nash kept walking.

"Get lost."

She pushed off the wall smoothly and fell into step beside him, her hips rolling with every movement. Her perfume, sweet vanilla with something darker underneath, drifted over him.

"Aww, don’t be like that," she pouted. "I just wanted to say... what you did out there was crazy. The way you move? The way you take control?" She bit her lip, eyes sparkling. "Makes a girl wonder what else you’re good at."

Nash’s jaw tightened. He was tired, annoyed. His team had already turned the corner ahead, and he was lagging.

"I need to get back to my team. Move."

She didn’t move. Instead, she stepped closer, letting her big, soft tits press against his arm as they walked. Her fingers trailed down his sweaty forearm, nails scratching lightly.

"Come on... you look so tense. Carrying your whole team must be exhausting. Don’t you wanna blow off some steam before the second half?" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I’m really good at helping big, strong guys... relax."

Nash stopped walking. Finally, he turned to look at her properly.

That’s when he noticed the green and gold on her jersey. Raptors colors. The same team that had been elbowing and tripping his girls all game.

His eyes narrowed.

She saw him looking and smiled wider, her glossy lips shining. It didn’t seem to matter if he was staring at her tits or her team colors.

"Mmm. Naughty boy," she purred, stepping even closer until her big chest pressed right against him. One hand slid boldly down his abs, tracing the hard muscles, then lower, cupping the bulge in his shorts. Her fingers squeezed gently, exploring... then her eyes went wide with real surprise.

"Oh my~," she breathed, voice turning excited. "You’re way bigger than I thought. So thick... and already getting hard from just a little teasing? That’s adorable."

Nash raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t even hard yet, but whatever. He’d been in the underground Breakball scene long enough to know exactly what this was.

Classic seduction tactic. Some teams sent hot girls before the game or during halftime to try and bribe key players into throwing the game. Most of the time, it was cheap and obvious. But for the really strong teams, like the Raptors, when they sent a girl like this... it wasn’t a bribe.

It was demolition.

And Nash had done his homework before this game. Most of the intel was about the Raptors’ starters and subs, but one name kept popping up with a nasty reputation.

Mika Sato.

For the last two seasons, every time the Raptors played a tough opponent, weird stuff happened. They’d get crushed in the first half... then suddenly, the other team’s best players would disappear in the second and third quarters, sluggish, drained, missing easy shots.

Online forums were full of pissed-off players admitting a "super hot gyaru" had approached them at halftime, offered herself, and they fell for it.

Because her body was basically a sex machine.

Insane stamina. Crazy muscle control. Especially her pussy, rumored to squeeze, milk, and pulse like it had a mind of its own. She could ride a guy for the entire halftime and keep him cumming over and over without letting him go soft, draining him until he was a shaking, empty husk by the third quarter.

They called her "the Leech."

And now she was here, pressed up against him.

Mika rubbed herself against Nash, loving how much bigger he was. At six-three of pure muscle, Nash towered over her. She had to tilt her head up to look at him, which just made her want him more. She rolled her hips slowly, grinding her soft stomach against his growing bulge.

"See?" she whispered. She grabbed his wrist and boldly shoved his big hand between her thick thighs, pressing his palm right against the warm, already wet crotch of her shorts. Nash felt it immediately, her pussy clenching and releasing in strong, deliberate pulses against his fingers through the fabric. Yeah, the rumors were true.

"Feel that~?" Mika moaned softly, biting her lip. "I can control every muscle down there. I’m so tight I could probably make a eunuch cum. Imagine what I could do to a big, strong guy like you..."

She squeezed his cock through his shorts again, eyes gleaming.

Nash stared down at her for a long moment. He knew exactly what she was. Knew the trap. Knew the risk.

But the anger from the first half, watching his girls get elbowed and tripped, was still burning in his chest. The idea that the Raptors thought they could break him with sex instead of skill made something inside him snap.

It wasn’t a match anymore. They wanted violence? They’ll get it.

"Alright," he said finally. "Lead the way."

Mika’s eyes lit up with pure, predatory joy. A huge, thrilled grin spread across her glossy lips.

"Ehehe~ I knew you’d come around, golden boy." She rubbed against him one more time, mashing her big tits into his chest and giving his cock a final teasing squeeze. "Pretending you didn’t want it... so cute."

She turned with a sway of her wide hips and started walking down a side hallway, looking back over her shoulder with a wink.

"Follow me. I’ll take real good care of you~"

In the Raptors Locker Room

The coach, still red-faced from how badly they’d messed up the second quarter, paced in front of his players.

"We got wrecked out there," he growled. "That golden boy is a damn monster. But we’re not losing to some rookie and his cheerleaders."

He stopped, rubbing his face.

"Hate that we gotta do this so early. Haven’t needed Mika in months. Using her now... feels like admitting we can’t beat him fair." He sighed. "But we don’t have a choice."

One of the new guys leaned forward.

"Better now than never, right? What’s her deal anyway? Never seen her play."

The coach snorted.

"Mika’s not built for basketball. She’s built for this. Tall, huge tits, fat ass, thighs that could kill a man. Face like a pornstar. But the real weapon’s between her legs. She can control every muscle in her pussy like it’s got its own brain, so she can milks guys dry for hours. Most guys give up after twenty minutes, but she can ride someone the whole halftime and leave ’em a drooling mess. That’s her thing."

The room went quiet for a second, then broke into low, dirty laughs.

"Damn... poor bastard."

"Should we take pics? For blackmail material."

The coach checked his watch, smirking.

"He should be finishing up soon. If she keeps him for an hour, third quarter’s ours."

They relaxed. Stretched. Joked. Planned how they’d bully Blacklist without Nash to stop them.

Minutes passed, and soon, the third quarter was about to start.

Then, a loud knock echoed through the room.

The players grinned. The coach stood up, groaning.

"Already? Thought she’d take the whole halftime." He walked to the door, muttering, "Hope this guy’s at least dead."

He opened it, and froze.

The entire locker room went dead silent.

Nash stood in the doorway, breathing calmly, eyes sharp, face relaxed. Sweat from the game still glistened on his skin, but he looked fresh. Way too fresh, like he had perfectly recovered.

And below... When their eyes dropped lower... Pure shock.

Impaled on his thick, veiny cock, totally naked, legs wrapped weakly around his waist, was Mika.

Her big tits pressed against his chest, nipples hard. Her head flopped back, tongue hanging out, drool dripping from her glossy lips. Eyes rolled back, twitching. Her powerful thighs trembled uncontrollably. Clear juices dripped down Nash’s thighs from her stretched, twitching pussy.

She was babbling nonsense in a broken, wrecked voice.

"guuh... no... mmmph... so... uuuuhhh... ahhn~..."

Nash held her up effortlessly with one arm under her fat ass, the other hand relaxed at his side. He looked straight at the stunned Raptors team and their coach with cold eyes.

"So," he said flatly. "I suppose this is yours?"