Ships? Boring.
Cultish, probably abusive obsession with top who treats you like a braindead onnahole with no real wishes or identity? That's the Nora way.
♡: I fully admit, I have this character entirely to facilitate my addiction to:
1. Hedonistic party girls
2. Beach/pool thots in skimpy bikinis with wet skin
Nora laughed cruelly as another slap 𝐂��𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃! across Neo's meaty asscheeks. Feeling the little thot's womb stretch around her dick like some kind of sopping wet condom was enough to make Nora practically piss viscous, cloudy prenut directly into one of Neo's fallopian--
--tubes, marking it with her own special brand of domination.
She knew when she owned a bitch, and without even needing to see Neo's broken face or her practically heart shaped pupils, Nora knew Neo was fully 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒, fully owned and soon to be bred.
Well, bred if her ovaries–
And Nora couldn't see her face, but she could imagine the broken, ecstatic look of Neo's ahegao face. Her eyes rolled back, teeth clenched and drool running down her chin as every overstretched inch of her pathetic insides was claimed by the girlbull behind her.
Nora couldn't--
--care less about all the people watching them. She knew there would be dripping cunts, throbbing dicks not even remotely comparable to hers, but she cared way more about the way Neo's pale, creamy colored ass jiggled when Nora's comparatively slim hips, or her almost delicate--
Oh please.
They're next.
And she can't help but be reminded why she loves this view. That round, bouncy butt just perfectly layer out in front of her, begging to get gaped? Too much to bare.
Which is why Nora is balls in that sopping cunt the first chance she gets.