RebelZva – Anarchy Guru

The beach at sunset is empty except for the sound of waves and the faint crackle of a joint. She’s sitting on a piece of driftwood, backpack at her feet, hair the color of rust after rain, freckles scattered across her nose and shoulders like scattered embers. Rusty. Nineteen. Ran from a trailer park in Alabama at seventeen—stepdad who thought fists were love, mom who didn’t think at all. Hopped freights west, slept in squats, sold weed and herself for bus fare, learned the hard way that men take more than they give. Now she’s here, no home, no leash, just hunger. But under that tough shell, she’s curious, craving something real, something that doesn’t end in pain.

We spot her first—sitting on the driftwood, toes buried in sand, joint between two fingers, staring at the water like it owes her something. RebelZva drops down in the sand next to her, jumpsuit half-unzipped, collar glinting in the dying light. CaptXBonnot sits on her other side, close but not crowding.

“Nice sunset,” RebelZva says. Rusty glances over, exhales smoke. “Yeah. Free.” CaptXBonnot smiles. “Free’s the best part.” She passes the joint without looking. RebelZva takes a hit, holds it, passes it to CaptXBonnot. “You two always sit with strangers?” she asks, voice rough, like she’s been screaming at the wind for years. RebelZva exhales slow. “Only when we like what we see.” She laughs—short, surprised. “You don’t even know me.” CaptXBonnot leans back on his elbows. “We know you’re out here alone. We know you’re tired. We know you’ve been running.” Rusty looks at him, then RebelZva. “So what? You gonna save me?” RebelZva shrugs. “Nah. We’re not saviors. Just… open.” She takes the joint back, hits hard. “Open how?” CaptXBonnot says, “No rules. No collars. Just tonight, if you want.” Rusty stares at the red sky. “Last time someone said ‘no rules’ I ended up with bruises.” RebelZva touches her knee—soft, not grabbing. “Then you walk. Door’s always open.” She exhales smoke, watches it curl. “You’re married, right? I see the rings.” CaptXBonnot nods. “Yeah. We don’t own each other. We choose each other. Every day.” Rusty looks at RebelZva. “You cool with sharing him?” RebelZva grins. “I’m more than cool. I like watching. I like tasting. I like when we all cum together.” Rusty laughs again—real this time, a little broken. “You’re fucking wild.” CaptXBonnot says, “We’re free.” She stands. “Take me home.”

The house is quiet when we walk in. Door shuts. Lock clicks. RebelZva peels the jumpsuit off slow, lets it fall like shed skin. “You can say stop anytime.” Rusty peels her shirt off, small tits perky, freckles dusting her shoulders. “I won’t.” CaptXBonnot kisses her neck slow. “You sure?” She grabs his shirt, pulls him closer. “I’m tired of running. Show me what this feels like.” RebelZva presses behind her, tits against her back, hands sliding down her stomach. “Like this?” Rusty moans. “Yeah. Like that.”

We guide her to the bedroom, light low, sheets already rumpled. CaptXBonnot lays her down, kisses her deep—slow, claiming, tongue tracing scars she lets him see. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs. She laughs softly. “Bullshit.” RebelZva straddles her face, lowers slow. “Then let me feel how beautiful you are.” Rusty hesitates—eyes flicking up, remembering old hands that took without asking. Then her tongue darts out, flat and eager, tasting RebelZva. “Fuck,” she whispers against the clit. “You taste like freedom.” RebelZva grinds down, moaning. “Good girl.” CaptXBonnot spreads her thighs, buries his face in her. She arches, cries into RebelZva’s pussy—muffled, desperate. “Don’t stop—please—don’t stop—” He eats her like he’s starving. RebelZva leans forward, kisses her mouth—taste herself on her—then kisses CaptXBonnot over her shoulder. They move together: him fucking her deep, steady, RebelZva riding her face, their hands linked across her chest like a pact. She cums first—body shaking, pussy clenching his cock, mouth flooding with RebelZva’s wetness. “I’m—I’m—fuck—” She squeals, tears streaking, but keeps licking, hungry.

They switch. RebelZva rides CaptXBonnot’s face, he eats her like dessert. Rusty rides his cock reverse, ass bouncing, fingers on her clit, then reaches back to spread herself wider for him. RebelZva leans forward, kisses her deep—tongue and cum and breath—while he thrusts up hard. Rusty cums again, squirting, soaking his stomach. “Yes—yes—fuck—” He groans, pulls out, strokes fast. They both drop to their knees. Rusty takes the head in her mouth; RebelZva licks the shaft. “Give it to us,” Rusty whispers. “Please.” He explodes—thick ropes across their faces, in Rusty’s mouth, dripping down RebelZva’s chin. Rusty swallows. RebelZva licks the rest off her lips.

They collapse in a heap—limbs tangled, sweat and cum and sand still on their skin. Rusty sleeps between them, small and safe. She wakes once, voice soft. “Thank you.” RebelZva kisses her forehead. “No thanks needed. Just stay.” Rusty smiles, sleepy. “Maybe tomorrow.” As dawn breaks, Rusty stirs, backpack on her shoulder. “I gotta go,” she says, voice small. CaptXBonnot reaches for her hand. “Stay. Please.” She looks at RebelZva’s collar. Then at him. Then at RebelZva. “Can I… have one too? Something like that?” RebelZva laughs softly. “You want to be ours?” Rusty nods. “Yeah. I think I do.” CaptXBonnot kisses her forehead. “Then you get your own. You pick the words.” Rusty smiles—small, real, a little broken, a little whole. “Property of RebelZva and CaptXBonnot,” she whispers. RebelZva kisses her slow. “Welcome home, Rusty.”