Qiyana stalked by the edge of the booth quietly. She might've even been considered invisible, her head peeking out from behind decorative plant cautiously. There was nobody there but her, and, of course, Senna, standing beyond the window of the sound booth. She stood inside, patiently scrolling the screen of her phone with a thumb. A look of concentration was legible on her face. She had a recording session scheduled in just a few short moments. Two hours uninterrupted by anyone other than Yasuo, who handled the equipment and the mixing primarily. Yet, he'd been mistakenly informed that the session was rescheduled for tomorrow! Such a shame, Senna was to be left waiting for who knew how long before figuring out that she'd been stood up. Who would do such a thing? Qiyana couldn't help but snicker to herself, glancing back towards the door to make sure she'd remembered to lock. There could be no disturbance, this was to be a private collab. Senna was about to relinquish her spot as the lead, after all, and Qiyana was to take her rightful spot as queen.

Qiyana straightened her hair and stood up straight, her heeled boots clicking as she approached the door to the sound booth and let herself up all too casually. She flashed a smile at Senna as she let the door close behind her, strolling forward and stopping just inches from her group member. Senna glanced up with an arch brow.

"...Did you need something, Qiqi?" Senna was quick to ask, more curious than confused. "Oh- and have you seen Yasuo anywhere? He's like, ten minutes late. I've tried texting him, but I can't get a hold of him." Qiyana had to hold back her laughter. That much wasn't her doing, she'd just been fortunate enough to have Yasuo forget his phone in the booth after she'd dismissed him.

"Probably napping," Qiyana chuckled, reaching out to grab Senna's phone and setting it aside. "I had something I wanted to talk to you about," she was quick to shift subjects, taking a step forward. Senna moved back, but bumped the wall. Qiyana grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her to the wall, a few inches taller than Senna in her heels, gazing down dominantly into Senna's startled gaze. "How about you give me lead?" A bold question with a confident grin. Senna's thick lips curled into a frown, furrowing her brow.

"What the hell is your- Get off of me!" She snapped, trying to squirm free. Qiyana tightened her grip, pressing up on the dark-skinned beauty without hesitating to exert her strength. Senna grunted, quickly realizing she was outmatched. "We all agreed, fair and square, so what's the deal?" Qiyana rolled her eyes.

"I guess I should rephrase," Qiyana sighed. "You're going to give me lead. Comprende?" She laughed, Senna not finding it quite as amusing. "We all didn't agree on anything. You, Ekko, and Akali just decided it on your own. And I think you'll find that Akali found my argument very... Persuasive," she giggled, pressing in even tighter. Senna's eyes widened, glancing down at the notice of the prominent bulge in Qiyana's shorts pressing aggressively between her thighs. Qiyana glanced down with her. "Oh, this?" She reached down with the question, starting to undo her shorts.

"Q...Qiyana, what are you doing?" Senna asked softly, lowering her voice in what could only be a terrified response. The zipper came down, Qiyana letting her swelling girth spring free and slap across Senna's exposed midriff. She pressed forward, letting it grind across the toned flesh. Qiyana took advantage of the shocked response and forced Senna to drop to her knees, beneath the looming shadow of her hard-on, the shaft smacking across the esteemed lead's face.

"Just putting you in your place," Qiyana growled, grabbing a fistful of Senna's hair in one hand and grasping her shaft in the other. She shoved the tip against Senna's dark lips, pushing it past and letting it rest atop the tongue that waited beyond. "A better use for your mouth," she snickered, starting to slowly rock her hips back and forth. She would warm up a bit, not wanting to get ahead of herself. After all, this was only phase one. Phase two came in the form of her producing her phone from her pocket, with Senna's head still firmly held in place by one tightened fist, the recording light flickered on with a few taps of the thumb. "Just an insurance policy, in case I can't convince you otherwise. Don't mind this too much, hm?" she playfully purred, the swollen tip of her shaft tapping against the back of Senna's throat with each gentle buck forward. Senna glared back at the lens of the camera, not nearly as amused as Qiyana seemed to be.

"Mmh-glk!" Senna tried to mumble something in defiance, but was quickly silence by a sharp lunge forward. Qiyana's sack smacked off of Senna's chin, forcing a gag from the lips sealed around her throbbing girth, starting to pick up the pace in an attempt to quell rebellion.

"Shhh," Qiyana purred softly, moving her hand from the handlebar that was Senna's braids down to caress the woman's cheek. Wet, sloppy sounds of saliva grew increasingly audible alongside the slapping of Qiyana's heavy sack off of the wet chin of her contender, spit bubbling around her shaft as those full lips were dragged back and forth across her length by force. Her thrusts were shallow, but quick, almost as if she were bent on rattling Senna's brain loose so that she couldn't put up a fight. The assault didn't last for long, surprisingly benevolent as she let up in the onslaught after several all-too brief minutes. She drew back her hips in response to Senna's desperate tapping, lingering momentarily on the sight of flaring nostrils and rolled back eyes before permitting Senna to breathe once more. The shaft came loose with a 'fwah' and the aggressive inhaling of a woman deprived of air for too long.

Qiyana saw this as an opportunity where Senna was unable to lash back, however, and moved to shove Senna onto the ground. Without a fight, she fell, landing square on her front with her ass high in the air. All too convenient, Qiyana unhesitating in grabbing at those tight jeans and yanking them down the supple flesh of Senna's thick ass. She couldn't help but bite her lip, delivering a swift smack to the bubble butt laid prone before her, tuning out any and all protest as she raised herself up and prepared to mount Senna from behind.

"Hahh- hey, you can't just-!" Senna had tried to argue, but was was easily subdued by an eager buck forward. Qiyana buried herself into Senna's slit, still shakily holding her phone aloft while starting to swing her hips into the embrace of the cunt that swallowed her girth. She slammed into Senna's cervix without mercy, doing just as she'd set out to do in breaking the woman's mind until she complied with her terms. If that failed, she was certain that the video would've proved very interesting to Lucian. Given a bit of editing magic, of course, but that was needless. She knew her technique would prevail. Even now Senna was moaning each time her pelvis crashed into those wobbling cheeks, though it was possible she was mistaking wordless pleading grunts for pleasure - though it'd be a lie to say that even Senna didn't know for certain, it seemed. She tightened up with each thrust, her hips instinctively pushing back against the impressive girth that impaled her without pause. Any time she dared to speak even a word in resistance, Qiyana would hammer herself forward with even more intensity. Senna's vocalizations soon only became a mix of moans and whimpers.

"Better," Qiyana chuckled arrogantly, the way she always did. Senna had given up on resistance at this point, if the eager bouncing of her hips back into Qiyana's thrusts was any indication of her losing the battle. Qiyana only had one final step remaining, which was to lean forward and grunt a final ultimatum. "Do you want me to cum inside your slutty pussy?" she offered, to which Senna whined softly before nodding weakly. Qiyana smirked, presenting her phone before Senna's face and letting the camera capture her slack-jawed expression in its lens. "Then say what I want to hear." Her heart pounded with anticipation, slowing her thrusts to permit Senna to at least squeak out a few words.

"Hahh... I'm... Qiqi's bitch..." Senna moaned crudely, unable to help but pant hotly. Qiyana paused for a moment, rolling her eyes with an irritated grunt. A sharp spank to Senna's ass had her yelp, before adjusting her statement. "I-I mean... Qiqi can be - hahh! - lead, I'm not... Nn, cut out for it!" Qiyana trembled, an all too sexual thrill produced from the mere admittance of inferiority from her co-member. It was all the incentive she needed to buck her hips violently, the camera still trained on Senna's face as hot ropes of thick, sticky spunk poured into her womb from Qiyana's twitching cock. No holds were barred as Qiyana emptied her load into the eagerly gripping slit she'd buried herself balls-deep into, arching her back and letting out a sharp moan of pure, unrivaled bliss. How could she ever beat this mind-numbing climax? Shooting her load into the eager, slutty pussy of someone degrading themselves beneath her.

It briefly occurred to her, as the joys of orgasm slowly wound down and as she dislodged her shaft from the clasp of those warm, wet walls, that her complex might've been a problem. Of course, in typical fashion, she brushed it off. After all, there was no time to waste. She had a video to cut and present to the group - she was boss bitch now.