The Correction of Elira Pendora

"Riku-sama, the stock... I think it's going to fall further..."
"It'll hold! 3,000 yen is the resistance point," Riku barked, cigarette smoldering at the edge of his mouth as he typed away on his Mac.
"But sir..." the intern-slash-sex slave muttered, his voice barely a whisper. Being paid nine dollars an hour by one of the world's youngest billionaires made him hesitate to be more forceful. "How could it hold? The third Asmongold video on the situation has already been released. At least one legal professional has already gone over it too..."
"Bah! What do those gaijins know?" Riku retorted, before taking a drag. In truth, he knew that the stock price drop was inevitable. That was why he had been spending the entire day coordinating with multiple stock brokers, giving them sell orders on ANYCOLOR stock so he could reap even a sliver of profit once the price cratered on Monday as predicted. "How about they run the company then, huh? As if they know everything! Do they know how embarrassing it was for me to bow like that? In front of a million other filthy gaijins? The nerve!"
In anger, he stubbed his cigarette into a growing cactus of butts in his gold-lined Nijisanji-brand ashtray. It was made to commemorate the Golden 20, back during the good times...
The good times that were ruined by those incompetent foreigners in the NijiEN branch!
"Where the hell is she?!" Riku yelled, before banging his hand on the headrest of his golden Lockheed Lounge sofa. "WHERE THE HELL IS ELIRA PENDORA?!"
"S-Sir, calm down!" the intern cried. "Your blood pressure..."
"I don't care about my blood pressure... I want my MONEY back! I want my COMPANY back. I want my REPUTATION back!" Riku sucked in a great deal of air through his clenched teeth. He had built Anycolor seven years ago, intent on taking over the vtubing world. Oh, such lofty goals, but he knew... he KNEW could've done it! He could've built an empire! But now, while old man Tanigo was jerking off with clumps of 10,000 yen bills and a Pekora plushie, Riku had found himself ruling not an empire of many colors, but an empire of pitch black dirt.
"Riku-sama!" A man dressed in a balaclava and black SWAT uniform greeted him as he entered the main cabin of the yacht. It was a member of Nijisanji's 24th Corporate Defense Unit.
"What is it?" Riku hissed. "Didn't I tell everyone that I didn't want to be disturbed?!"
The man saluted. "Riku-sama! We've apprehended the target Elira Pendora and have brought her to your yacht, sir!"
"Oh?"
Riku stood up from his couch. Above his head hung the stone slab that held the original painting of The Creation of Adam (the one in the Sistine Chapel was fake, painted by interns), but modified to suit his tastes. Instead of God giving life to Adam, it was Riku giving life to... who else but Riku?
"Then why didn't you lead with that, huh?" Riku yelled. "What do you I pay you for?!"
"You pay me five dollars an hour, sir!"
He flicked his hand. "Useless details! Where is she?"
Upon this command, the man in the SWAT uniform called forth other similarly-clad men. In their hands, they dragged forth a young woman with light blue hair and small wings on the top of her head. Her white overalls and off-shoulder sweater top were caked with dirt, while her cheeks were tinged red from bruising, undoubtedly the traces of a rough capture.
In near-trepidation, Riku walked up to the girl, grabbed her by the hair, and pulled her up with one hand until her knees were above the ground.
"Agh! L-Let go!" she protested weakly, balls of tears forming at the edge of her eyes in pain. "Please...!"
It was the source of all of Riku's troubles. It was Her.
'Pity' was not a word in Riku Tazumi's vocabulary. How dare she have the nerve to ask for pity after all the trouble she had caused him? After all she had done!
"Erira Pendola," the CEO of Anycolor Incorporated whispered, every syllable a curse in his thick accent.
"R-Riku-sama... I can explain!" she began in Japanese. Coherent, but somewhat off-tone as expected of gaijins. "Please—"
"Sirence! You are butchering my ranguage!" he bellowed, before letting her hair go. Elira fell knees-first, her lithe figure sprawled out on the Venetian marble floor. "Now terr me, Erira... whel. Is. Mai. MONEY?!"
"Whu-What are you talking about, Riku-sama—"
"The stock! My plecious company's stock! One hundled fifty mirron yen, lost in one day, Erira! ONE DAY!" Riku clenched his fists, each finger adorned with golden rings. "Do you know what I was doing befol the week ended? Do you know?"
Elira's mouth gaped. Her mind was slowly going blank at the terror that was an angry Riku Tazumi. "N-No... Riku-sama... I don't know—"
"I was checking Benetti yacht catarog!" he yelled. "I was about to get on the phone and corr them for new S.S. Tazumi... but what did you do?"
Elira knew what he was getting at. "I... I..."
"What did you do?" he asked again.
"We were just..." Her breath hitched as her chest tightened. "We were just... defending ourselves—"
"YOU FAKKU ME OVEL!" Riku screamed calmly. "YOU FAKKU ME OVEL! After I bowed to FIRTHY GAIJIN, you fakku me ovel with your stupid speech!" Seething with righteous indignation worthy of God in the Old Testament, Riku picked up his golden ashtray and chucked it toward Elira. But instead of hitting her, it smashed the young CEO's copy of "The Thinker"—a beautiful piece featuring a naked Riku pondering the future of Anycolor, reduced to two chunks of broken marble, ash, and cigarette butts.
"I'm sorry!" Elira cried, gathering herself into a deep dogeza, her face touching the floor. "I'm very sorry!"
"Solly? SOLLY? How can 'solly' bring back 150 mirrion, Erira! How can 'solly' pay back the shellhorders! How can 'solly' buy my new yacht?!"
Riku barely held himself back from grabbing the dragon and throwing her overboard. But something else caught his attention—the non-presence of a certain tea-drinking faggot.
"Where is Vox?" he asked his men in Japanese.
The corporate defense unit members gave wary glances to each other. Something had happened to Vox, and it seemed their leader had to give the bad news. "Uh... Riku-sama, sir..." he whispered, his eyes hidden behind black goggles but looking away from the CEO nonetheless. "We've received reports that he's, uh..."
"Well? Out with it!"
"He's hiding somewhere in Southeast Asia," the man said. "We suspect he is in a jungle somewhere in Indonesia, detained by his female fans. Probably being sucked off repeatedly. We could mount a capture operation, but... he may be dead by then."
Riku rubbed his chin. "I see... no matter. Contact the Tokyo office and tell them to activate clone number three. Have him make a new ASMR, something horny to get his fans going."
The man saluted. "Understood!" He then muttered something in Chinese to a subordinate of his, who then proceeded to radio Niji's Tokyo office, as well as the Ministry of State Security in Beijing.
"As foll you..." Riku said, turning his gaze to Elira again. Standing under the light of his silver Givenchy Royal Hanover chandelier, the CEO of Nijisanji ceased being a man, and became a negative space illuminated by gold. "How do you pran to pay me back?"
The girl, so tired from the failure of her attempt to run to the Philippines, looked up. She saw within that golden blackness two eyes—pale and seemingly gigantic, looking out of no face, hovering over a non-existent nose. What could she say before this otherworldly being? No... this furious God?
"I... I'll work hard! I'll make back my subscribers! All of them, and then some!" she begged, crawling on all fours across the cold, white marble, moving to grovel and grab Riku's ankle. "I'll hit seven hundred and fifty thousand... no! A million subscribers before the end of the year—"
"ENOUGH!" He yelled, motioning to kick her, which caused the girl to recoil back in fear. "What you say is impossibur... you and I both know that! Creary, you have no pran to speak of! Good thing I have mine..."
With a snap of his fingers, Riku's intern-slash-sex slave walked over with an iPad in his hands.
"Run the calculations," Riku said to him.
The intern nodded and began a series of taps, periodically looking over the iPad to see Elira's crawling form on the floor, then back at the tablet. The dragon wondered... what was he typing? Did it have something to do with her?
"Both her lungs will net... five million. Maybe six million if we sell it on the black market," the intern-slash-sex slave told Riku. "Her eyes are in good condition, so they could get as high as eight million yen each, and those wings could get 3 million yen each..."
"How about her liver?" Riku asked.
"Damaged by a bit of sodium due to repeated consumption of spicy Korean food... but in near-pristine condition otherwise," the manservant replied. "14 million, Riku-sama. Maybe we can make an additional 1 or 2 million if we extract her bile. Dragon bile is a popular herbal aphrodisiac in China..."
What? Lungs for five million yen? A liver for 14 million? Eyes for eight million yen each?
"Is that so? Hmmm..." Riku scratched his chin. "How much in total?"
Elira's mind reeled and her stomach churned as the realization dawned on her.
"75 to 80 million all in all, Riku-sama," the sex slave-slash-intern said.
The Anycolor CEO clicked his tongue. "A loss is a loss... but whatever. Get it done."
He was planning to turn Elira from a Niji liver... into a set of limited-edition Niji organs!
"NO!" she yelled, before grabbing Riku by the ankle. "PLEASE! DON'T DO IT!"
"What?! Get off me, you firthy gaijin! Get off—"
"I swear, I'll do anything! Anything!!" she said, before the weight of it all came tumbling down upon her. "PLEASE!!!"
The CEO was about to use his foot to put Elira back in her place, but something gave him pause. Perhaps it was how the single eye that peeked out of her bangs wobbled as it became wet with tears, or how the strap of her white bra peeked from behind the strap of her overalls.
These things gave Riku Tazumi an idea. A money-making one that made a slight grin appear on the edge of his mouth.
"Anything, you say?"

Nighttime at Anycolor HQ. The main shareholders had been gathered for an emergency meeting. Details were scarce, but the word on the grapevine was that Riku was going to address the issue of the loss of 150 million yen, as well as his other plans to improve the company's longevity, improve work-life balance for the talents, and mitigate the PR disaster that had afflicted the EN branch.
In other words, he was going to tell them how he would give them back their money, and how he would make them more money in the future.
12 men were seated along a roundtable, consisting of the heads of various investment firms (Arma Rikoh Japan, Guldman Suchs, eNJP Japan, Buckrock, GPMulligan Case, Molley Stanford, and Rockheel Marlin), government bodies like the Ministry of Economy, Trade, and Industry, as well as private individuals (one man identified himself as a certain "Eron Mosque," while another one said he was "Mister Geff Chezos").
Yet the most notable and preeminent attendee that night was a tall, middle-aged man with Asiatic features. He had a wide nose, slant eyes, and a graying combover. Flanked by two Chinese men in suits, shades, and curly white earpieces, he wrote his name on the visitor manifest as "Xin Qingling," though everyone knew who he really was, and thus gave him the appropriate respect.
Refreshments had been handed out—cognac imported from France, to put the visitors in a good mood. Some of them, however, had been waiting for more than 10 minutes.
At five minutes past seven, at the far end of the room, a set of gold-black double doors opened, and out came the man they were waiting for. In a sharp Armani suit, Riku Tazumi strutted to the table, before walking around it to stand in its middle gap. It was going to be his podium—his stage for tonight's performance.
"Gentermen! Wercome to Tokyo!" He said to the surly-faced men seated around him, his arms aloft with the flair of a showman. "I hope you had a nice tlip to our fine city—"
"Get on with it, Tazumi!" the head of Buckrock said, before shaking his head. "You have the chutzpah to call us down here to your shithole, so you better tell us how you'll give our money back, you putz."
"I'm getting to that," he replied. "Our stock plice has... not performed as werr as expected. Welu expecting an arr-out wall on Monday once the stock exchange opens—"
"Stop kvetching and get to the point already, you slant-eyed schmuck!" said the Molley Stanford head.
"Werr... I will not take too much of your time then, gentermen," the CEO of Anycolor said, before clapping his hands. "Bling out the package!"
From the same double doors Riku came out of, two ANYCOLOR staff members pushed in a gilded cart carrying a carboard box. Laden with the Nijisanji logo, the shareholders stared at the mysterious package, wondering how in the world this was going to give their money back. Did Tazumi bring them a box of gold bars? The deeds to his rumored Swiss properties? Maybe it was going to be the deed to one of his precious yachts.
When the cart made it to Tazumi, he patted the top of the box. "Contained here, gentermen... is the sorution to arr of Anykara's plobrems."
With one pull of a thin piece of twine, the box opened, its sides collapsing to reveal the contents: Elira Pendora, glistening and naked under the meeting room lights on a silver platter. Though she tried to somewhat cover herself with her hands, every man in the room could see the roundness of her G Cups, and the absence of a bush where her legs meet.
"Wha... What's the meaning of this?" Eron Mosque asked before taking another sip of cognac.
"Ah, isn't that the girl who made, uh... who made that video, yeah..." the CEO of GPMulligan Case said, before admiring the roundness of Elira's white, creamy ass.
Seemingly impassive, Mister Xin Qingling whispered to the aide next to him, who in turn spoke in English, "The plesident—I mean, Mistah Xin Qingling would rike to know the leason wry this naked young gull has been blot befol us."
"Ah, werr... you see, gentermen..." Riku placed his hand on Elira's bare shoulder, causing the girl to gasp. He then ran this hand down her skin, along the small of her back... before drawing back his hand and slapping her ass.
"AAAGHHN~!" the girl cried, her cheeks taking on an intense shade of crimson.
"You wirr be enjoying yourserbs tonight," he said. "With her."
"What in tarnation..." the wide-chinned head of Rockheel Marlin scoffed. "Ya think we'll take turns on her and everything will be sunshine and rainbows? Get over yourself, Tazumi. What makes you think we'll do that, huh?"
"The cognac, Mistah Raw-kir." The CEO of Anycolor grinned. "We raced it arr with dlagon bire. Tladitional Chinese aplhodizeak."
Mister Rockheel dropped his glass of cognac on the table in shock. "What?"
This was the beginning of Riku's master plan. Step One: Lace everyone's drinks with a powerful aphrodisiac, and make sure they drink it all.
"OY VEY~!" the Molley Stanford CEO cried, as he began contorting his seat, flailing his arms as if controlled by an invisible puppetmaster.
"What the hell...?"
Then, the real horror: The Molley Stanford CEO began thrusting his hips into the air, while a large bulge threatened to rip the zipper of his Brioni pants. One by one, the illustrious captains of industry, finance, and government followed suit. A fire erupted in their loins, and a great hunger filled their gazes. A hunger for flesh of the feminine kind.
And dinner was served.
"Enjoy, gentermen," Riku said as the other men in the room began ripping off their clothes, consumed by a haze of lust. He then looked at that night's meal. "Enjoy, Erira."
"W-Wait... D-Don't leave me here with those guys...!" said a panicked Elira.
"You said you wourd do anything, didn't you?" Riku pinched her cheek. "Then do it!"
With that, Riku stepped off his podium, leaving Elira alone in the midst of the shareholders, who had been reduced to a ravenous and hungry horde who wanted nothing more than to pump and dump her like Anycolor stock.
"N-No!" Elira said, trying to crawl back in a vain attempt to avoid her fate. "Stay away...!"
But she crawled back too much, causing her to fall off the cart onto the floor—vulnerable and alone as the men closed in on her.
"Hurry up, I want good angles," Riku said as he ushered in unpaid interns with video cameras into the room. "Make sure to get their faces, alright? I want every single one of them on film! Make it look good!"
This was Step Two of Riku's master plan. The Russians had a word for it: Kompromat, or blackmail material.
It was the Buckrock CEO who got to Elira first. She tried to crawl away from him, but he grabbed her hips with both hands, before pulling her up to his bearded mouth...
"No! I pee from there, don't—AAAGGHHNNN~!" The way his rough, curly beard scraped along the lips of her labia shot sparks up her spine, loosening her holes. "Agh! Stop! NOOOO~!"
She tried pushing the man off, but another one joined in and began wriggling his tongue into her asshole.
"AGGHHNNN~! NO, NOOOOO! AHHHNNN!!!"
"There we go! That's it!" Riku exclaimed, channeling his inner director next to his cameraman, who was taking delicious shots of the whole thing. "Wolk the camela, Erira!"
As the two men licked their way into both her holes, they held her up with both legs like a shrine figurine. A third man went for her right nipple, and another man went for the left. Another man pulled her down to the side and began thrusting his engorged dick between her armpits.
"No... ahhnnn... stop! Stop-URK!" Elira tried to yell, but Eron Mosque had shoved his uncircumcised member into her mouth, thrusting into it until his shaft began tapping her throat.
As Riku watched, a certain trepidation was beginning to make the hairs on his skin rise. His plan was working as intended, and he was getting all the leverage he needed to make the shareholders forgive the 150 million loss in stock.
But another thing was also dawning on him: Maybe should've had Elira do porn from the start. From her half-lidded expression to the way her ass and tits jiggled as the men shook and yanked her around, she had the makings of a popular AV star. Definitely something that could beat a certain "Queen of Iwara"...
Riku smirked. Perhaps Elira Pendora could still be of some use to him after all.
Meanwhile, the girl in question was beginning to gag from the cock shoved in her drooling mouth. One of the men pinched her nose, causing her lungs to shrink as she ran out of air. The by-product, however, was that it made her pussy and ass that much tighter. So tight that they began pinching the men's tongues.
It was time then to give his bratty dragon some correction.
Like wild animals, the men fought over who had first blood over Elira's snatch. At first, it looked like Eron Mosque was going to get the prize, but a fist from Geff Chezos put a stop to that plan. The CEOs of Buckrock, GPMulligan Case, Molley Stanford, and Guldman Suchs strangled each other for the right to fuck her asshole. The heads of the Japanese investors made their play by grabbing Elira from behind, but they were no match for the colossus that was the silent Xin Qingling.
As his aides tossed aside the competition, he positioned himself between Elira's supple legs. His Dongfeng Missile traced all the way from Elira's clit up to her belly button—a venerable ten inches in length, and two and a half inches in girth.
Though she tried to get the salty-sour taste of cock out of her mouth by spitting, Elira almost choked when she saw the shaft of the massive member slide along her smooth, sticky pussy lips. "No...!" She shook her head. "Y-You can't put that in... it's too big!"
Whether Elira's pleas fell on deaf or uncaring ears, it did not matter. The Chinese giant took hold of both of Elira's hips, positioning the tip of his cock between the fold of her pussy, parting them as he slowly slid in.
"No no no no no no no no—AAAAGHN~!"
The fucking was wild, ferocious as the man's member cleaved its way into Elira. Each thrust came from the entrance of her pussy, all the way to the entrance to her womb. Every time the head hit the very bottom, the girl felt as if she was being split into two along her spine. So massive this dick was that she could scarcely breathe between thrusts, forcing her to put out her tongue and suck in air like a dog in heat. Tears trickled from the sides of her eyes, and the wings on her head twitched.
"AgGHHHHHN! NO! STOP!" she begged. "You'll make it loose! YOU'LL MAKE IT LOO—AUGHHHHNN~!"
From behind Elira, another man made himself known. She didn't know who, but she did know that someone was trying to get into her ass while they put their fingers into her mouth.
On the third thrust, the dick slid right into her asshole, balls slapping against her gooch.
Now she was being double-teamed by raw dicks on both sides, Elira was beginning to lose sense of what was happening. The room in her eyes was slowly turning into a blur as her precum-stained bangs began sticking to the sides of her face. Coherent thought was beginning to turn into gut instinct, and and every word she tried to think in her mind was lost in a haze of lightning and lust.
She understood one thing, and one thing only: Her brain was melting, and any more of this would turn it into mush.
"AAAGGHHNNN~! No... NYOOOO...!"
As the two men thrusted into her, thoughts began jumbling in her mind. Who was she? Elira Pendora, that's who! She wanted to be a vtuber, so she signed up at Nijisanji's English branch.
But... just as she got in, half the management disappeared. Snap! Just like that. Crippled, the branch began losing viewers... so she stepped up to take the reins! Some would say she took power for herself, and perhaps that was true...
But...
But...
How could things have turned out like this?
Before she could answer that question, the two men bent her over. Not to give her rest—but to let a third cock back into her mouth. This guy pinched her nose too, and the oxygen deprivation made the back of her brain begin to tighten up. Her left eye twitched as pleasure began overriding consciousness.

Elira...
Eliraaa...
"Hey, Elira, wake the fuck up!"
"Huh?!"
Elira opened her eyes. She was on a nice, warm couch, in some kind of room.
"Shit, girl, you've been sleeping for hours," a platinum-blonde girl with round, blue eyes said with a slight smirk on her lips. "Millie and I thought you'd never wake up."
Elira stared at her for a full minute. This girl... who was this?
"Hello... earth to Elira?"
A name came to mind.
"E-Enna..."
Enna Alouette tilted her head to the side with a snort. "Who else, dumbass?"
"Whuh... Where are we?"
"Whaddya mean? We're at the hotel near the office for the concert."
Concert? "Concert? What concert?" Elira knew nothing about a concert. If there was one, she'd know. She knew everything that happened in NijiEN, after all. "What are you talking about...?"
Enna shook her head. "Oh boy... Millie! I think Elira's broken or some shit. Come in here."
"Hold on for a second!" shouted a girl with a weird accent from the kitchen. "I'll be with you guys!"
That was Millie. Yeah, Millie.
Enna and Millie... this meant that Elira was in the company of friends on a normal afternoon.
But... wasn't Elira doing something earlier? She could've sworn something happened. Something bad. But for the life of her, she couldn't remember it. It was as if she had an album of memories, but an entire page of them had suddenly gone missing. How could it be?
"Okay, I'm almost out!" the voice shouted.
Then from the kitchen emerged a petite blonde girl in an orange sweater and an oversized witch's hat. This was Millie.
But... next to her was a gaggle of naked black men.
Millie clapped her hands. "Alright guys, are we ready for the concert?"
Elira gasped. "What?"

"Erira! Wake up!"
Elira opened her eyes. She was back in the meeting room, being fucked by two guys in both holes, while a third guy was thrusting into her mouth.
"Thell we go!" Riku shouted through a megaphone as his cameramen took video of her performance. "Don't pass out!"
But she wasn't hearing his voice. She wasn't hearing any voice. All that her mind was processing was how tight her pussy was coiling around the dick inside her, and how that dick was twitching.
That meant one thing. She knew what that thing was, and in the ever-growing haze of her consciousness, a flash of panic began taking her over.
She pulled her head back just far enough to get the cock out of her mouth. "No... pull out! PULL OUT!" she cried. "I'll get pregnant!"
But just as quickly God taketh away the dick in her mouth, God puteth it right back in as the third man took hold of the wings on her head, gripping them like handlebars.
Two bolts of pleasure shot right into Elira's brain like a couple of rail spikes, and her waking mind began to turn in upon itself. The images within were beginning to fade.
Enna and Mille... who were those people?
Nijisanji... what was that?
Elira... who?
All of it was fading. Turning from a canvas of color... to a field of pitch black.
Three more thrusts, and the men shoving their dicks inside her shot their warm, hot loads. The girl felt it trace and seep into her womb, before it all leaked, spilled out of her cunt. She twitched as the men pulled out, only for them to be quickly replaced by a fresh new set of cocks.