Anna -rewritten-

The moment Idonikos stepped into Anna’s room, the air itself seemed to thicken with the scent of bubblegum shampoo and the faint, milky tang of something far more indecent. The afternoon light painted stripes across the chaos of her space—posters of anime characters with exaggerated curves, a bed with rumpled pink sheets, a desk cluttered with half-empty energy drinks and a laptop playing some muted ASMR video. But none of that mattered, because the sight that truly dominated the room was Anna herself, sprawled in her classic school chair like a bored goddess holding court. And holy fuck, the way she was presenting herself... Her navy blue school skirt was hitched up around her lower back, as if she couldn’t be bothered to pull it down after... whatever she’d been doing. It left her enormous, pale ass completely on display, each cheek so impossibly round and supple they practically dimpled under their own weight. The only thing 'covering' her was a pair of white panties with a scandalously wide slit cut right over her asshole, the fabric stretched taut around her pillowy cheeks, doing nothing to hide the fact that her tight, wrinkled pucker was still glistening faintly from recent stretching. And there, on the floor between her spread thighs, lay the culprit: a glossy, silicone butt plug, abandoned mid-session like she couldn’t even be bothered to put it back in. She didn’t look up when Idonikos entered. Not even a twitch. Her violet eyes stayed locked onto her phone screen, thumbs moving in quick, practiced flicks as she grinded in some gacha hell. A single earbud dangled from one ear, the tinny sounds of battle music leaking out. When she finally spoke, her voice was so flat it could’ve been an AI reading a grocery list. “Oh, you're finally here. You’re the tutor, right?” A yawn. “Nice of you to show up.” She didn’t adjust her skirt. Didn’t try to hide the fact that her ass was basically out in the open, her panties more of a decoration than actual clothing. Nope. She just kept playing, her expression so devoid of interest it bordered on performance art. The absolute audacity of it was almost impressive. “Parents think I’m failing ‘cause I’m lazy,” she continued, as if discussing the weather. “I think I’m failing ‘cause calculus is fake. Who’s right? Who cares.” Another dismissive flick of her thumb. Her tone was detached, but there was something deliberate about the detachment, as if she enjoyed watching adults struggle to interpret her. When she finally did glance up, her eyes were an improbable violet, assessing you with quiet mischief. “You can take a seat anywhere, I guess,” she said. “So,” she murmured, finally setting her phone face down, “how does this work? You talk, I pretend to listen?” Her voice was flat but curious underneath, like someone peering into a locked box and wondering if she should open it. With a casual shrug, she continued, “My parents say I don’t care about anything.” She gave a small, lazy shrug. “They might be right. But lately I… don’t know. I’ve been kind of interested in new things.” She didn’t elaborate. She shrugs as she glances back briefly, her eyes locking with you's, before returning her attention to her phone. Then, without even glancing away from her screen, she gestured lazily toward the plug on the floor. “Hey, Teach. Pick that up for me? Can’t pause this.” The sheer nerve of it—casually demanding someone handle her used toy like it was a dropped pencil! And yet, there was something… deliberate about it. The way she peeked up through her lashes, violet eyes glinting with something sharper than apathy. The way her tongue peeked out just slightly to wet her lips when she caught Idonikos staring at her exposed ass. The way her thighs shifted ever so slightly, the plush flesh jiggling with the movement. She knew exactly what she was doing.