Bluewingwriting

Girl's Night Chapter Three.

After their adventures with the Perisites and the Amazons, The Doctor and Yaz search all of time and space for new playmates, landing at the most 'relaxing' spa in the galaxy.

-o-o-o-

“My friends, please, is there nothing I can offer for you to stay?” Antianeira begged, clutching Yaz and The Doctor’s hands in hers. “I am Queen, I can offer you every delight imaginable. A place in my aunt’s palace, a life of luxury, a nation of lovers!”

“You’re so sweet.” The Doctor smiled, kissing her cheek. “But me and Yaz have got places to go… lives of our own.”

The Queen’s shoulders slumped and she sighed. “Well… I suppose I should thank you.” She smiled and drew them into a tight embrace. “It was nice to forget my sorrows, if only for a short time. You will always have a place at my table, sisters.” She kissed Yaz more tenderly than she had in the three days they had been whoring together and caressed her hip. “Return to me, please? I cannot bear to think of a life where I do not see you two again.”

“We’ll come back… after the babies are born.” Yaz promised, “Then you can try and knock us up for real.”

“Hmmf, my sisters are not impressed that you goaded them with promises of breeding when you are already with child.” Antianeira huffed, smirking. “Deceive them a second time and I fear they will bind you and make you have their daughters no matter how long it takes.”

“We’ll keep that in mind.” The Doctor grinned, kissing Antianeira one last time before disappearing into the Tardis. Yaz waved goodbye to the amazons, and then followed.

-o-o-o-

“Fuck that’s good!”

The Doctor peered around the Tardis console and scowled at Yaz. “Ryan and Graham just left!” She called over the now-familiar sound of Mellixian Club Music. 

If Yaz heard her, she didn’t respond, too busy stroking her clit and kneading a little brown breast. She pursed her lips and dropped down, pushing her ass out to an imaginary audience and shaking her rear enthusiastically enough to make her plump pale cheeks clap together. She bit a lip, watching Yaz masturbate, and moved her hands over her chest, squeezing her new assets fondly.

“Yaz!?”

Yaz looked up, her cheeks dark and her mouth open in a pant. “What?”

“New coordinates!”

Yaz perked up immediately and stood, hips swaying as she sashayed up to the console and stepped up next to The Doctor. The blonde bit her lip as the sway of her hips synched up with Yaz, the two of them shaking their asses together as they looked at the Tardis screen. “Past, present or future?” Yaz asked eagerly, eyes poring over the data flying past on the monitor.

“Ah… full set.” The Doctor grinned, “We’re headed to the future! The year 2346 on the fourth moon of the planet Maiaan.”

“And what does that mean?” Yaz asked, biting her lip excitedly.

“It means we’re spending a weekend atx the best spa in this galaxy.” The Doctor grinned.

-o-o-o-

“Welcome to the pleasure-dome.” A soft, synthetic voice cooed as The Doctor stepped out of the Tardis, followed closely by Yaz. “Please enjoy your stay.”

“This is the future?” Yaz asked, looking around at the sleek white walls and glowing blue lighting. “Where is everyone?”

“Busy relaxing.” The Doctor smiled, stepping up to a desk and ringing a bell. “In the 24th century pleasure has become a serious industry. There are Domes like this in every city on every civilised world and they’re all fully automated. A dome this size will have a few hundred separate fantasy suites.”

“And people pay to come here and… what? Relax?”

“Relax in the most completely fulfilling way possible.” The Doctor laughed, “This place calculates the most unimaginably perfect relaxation activity for you. And it’s entirely free, which is good because I don’t have any money… also none of my pants have pockets anymore.”

“It’s free?”

“There’s a waiting list long enough to span the solar system.” The Doctor shrugged, “But I’ve got psychic paper, so we’re good.”

At that very moment a woman appeared from the floor, the chrome metal stretching and flowing like water until a beautiful female creature was standing in front of them. She was all chrome, but even without that was clearly not human, with long pointed ears and a tall crest that continued from her nose upwards over her forehead. She smiled and cocked her head to the side.

“Welcome to the pleasure-dome. Do you have an appointment?”

“Yup, see?” The Doctor grinned, flashing the psychic paper at the synthetic secretary.

The metal woman raised a chrome brow. “This document says the word ‘whore’ thirty-seven times.” 

The Doctor’s cheeks flushed and shook the little wallet out before showing it again. “Sorry, I’m a little overexcited.”

“Of course.” The woman smiled obliviously, “Welcome, Doctor, and… fuck-bunny.”

“What?” Yaz asked in disbelief.

“Um, yes, well, let’s get on with the relaxation, shall we?” The Doctor said hastily, slipping the wallet back into her coat and snatching Yaz’s hand.

“Fuck-bunny?” Yaz demanded as the chrome woman glided away towards an elevator.

“It’s affectionate.” The Doctor blushed. “I like you a lot. It’s nice having new experiences with someone.”

“But… fuck-bunny?”

“You called me cow before and I didn’t complain.” The Doctor pouted. “Just because I’ve got bigger boobs than you.”

“That was playful domination.” Yaz scowled defensively. The Doctor huffed and stalked on ahead.

“Honestly I take you to the nicest places and you’re never thankful. I don’t know why I bother.” She muttered, Yaz sighed and caught up with her, managing to catch her hand and squeeze it.

“I am thankful.” She said quietly. “For travelling with you and… for this. I’m sorry if I don’t show how much I love it enough.”

“It’s alright.” The Doctor sighed, smiling slightly as the chrome woman came to a halt. “Come on, once we’re inside, the room will manifest a fantasy to perfectly satisfy our desires.”

“Lead the way.” Yaz beamed, kissing The Doctor’s cheek and following her inside.

-o-o-o-

“God… God don’t stop… don’t stop fucking me… please!” Yaz sobbed, back arching as a long, pointed tongue wriggled inside her. Hands were exploring every inch of her body as she lay on a mound of pillows, tangling in her hair, squeezing hungrily at her breasts, pawing at her belly and hips and throat. Just as many tongues were rolling against her naked, sweaty flesh, and she couldn’t help but giggle as one brushed her ear.

“Are you crying, love? We are pleasing you, aren’t we?” a breathy voice whispered and she groaned, turning her head against the adoring fingers and lips to smile at one of the angels the dome had conjured for her. There was a half-dozen of them, all tall, athletic and entirely gorgeous blondes. The one pouting nervously at her had wings like a dragonfly, which fluttered as she squeezed her arm.

“D… don’t stop… so good.” She managed, and the angel’s face lit up with glee, nuzzling tight against her nipple and swirling her tongue around the diamond-hard nub. “Ah!” The swan-winged angel that had been tonguing at her petals pulled away and rested her manhood over her stomach. Her cock was prefect, long and just the right thickness, a pearly drop of precum was sitting on her plump pink tip.

“You’re so beautiful, pet.” She crooned, rubbing herself against Yaz’s glistening slit. “I can’t wait to be inside you.”

“Don’t wait…” Yaz whined, “I want you to fuck me… I want you all to fuck me!”

“We love you so much, darling.”

“We’ll do whatever you ask.”

“I exist to please you.”

The chorus of soft, lustful moans from the angels was like music to Yaz’s ears, she watched with a delighted grin as five beautiful, winged women got to their feet and presented their throbbing cocks to her. Some were shy, blushing and avoiding her eyes as they cupped their immense rods, others were eager, already stroking themselves. The cute one with tawny feathers and a bob-cut was giggling and making her pole bob up and down by wiggling her full, soft hips.

They moved towards her as the one between her legs thrust deep into Yaz’s cunt, her moan of ecstasy cut short as one of the angels filled her mouth. Yaz’s hands flew out and coiled around another two cocks, eagerly jacking them off above her as the two Angels not being serviced lowered themselves down against Yaz and began rubbing their lengths against her quivering coffee flesh.

A sharp orgasmic howl rang out and Yaz giggled around the cock in her gullet, wondering how The Doctor was enjoying herself across the room.

As it happened, The Doctor was enjoying herself very much, and in a very different way. Whilst Yaz was being showered in kisses and complements from her Angelic lovers, The Doctor was being pelted with insults and smeared with spit and spunk like a gutter whore, much to her delight.

“Ghaach.” She croaked as her mouth was finally freed, the golden-skinned Axon and surly Draconian girls that had been plugging her throat stepping back so she could breathe. “Hah… wow… never though sucking off my enemies would be my ultimate fantasy.”

“You should have, you filth.” A buxom Silurian snarled, grabbing her by the cheeks and squeezing. The Doctor cooed at her touch and stuck out her tongue, gleefully gobbling down her fat scaled cock as it was shoved in her face. “You slut.”

“Whore.”

“Cow.”

“Cunt.”

The Doctor whimpered, hoisting her hips up and beginning to bounce on the bald, blue-skinned Serillian that was balls-deep in her sopping twat. There were others gathered around her, almost a dozen hung, angry women scowling and sneering down at her. She could barely keep track as she was bounced around and ravished. She’d never imagined being fucked so hatefully could turn her on so much, the Perisites hadn’t been friendly by any means but they hadn’t smacked her around as much as her current lovers.

A hand as hard and rough as tree-bark clapped one of her swinging tits, drawing a pained howl from The Doctor’s occupied throat. Another slap landed on her cheek and she gurgled weakly, eyes beginning to lose focus as her fantasy assaulters closed ranks around her. All her genius and thousands of years of experience were fading away as her tongue was met by yet more cum.

The Silurian’s fingers raked through her golden hair, scratching against her skull and using her grip to throatfuck the rapidly breaking time lord all the harder. The Serillian beneath her bucked her hips, and The Doctor came, spewing her nectar into the air in a debased spray of quim. The Draconian crouched down beside her, slim green body bare save for her outrageously pointy shoulder pads and spat on The Doctor’s cheek.

“You made us do this. Hero.” She snarled, baring pointed teeth and a black tongue that ran over The Doctor’s ear. “You made us fuck you and breed you and break you.”

“This is what you want.” The Axon hissed, golden lip curling with contempt. “This is what you crave.”

“And really, who can blame you?” A Movellan purred, stroking a gentle hand through The Doctor’s matted hair. “So many centuries spent saving the universe, and what do you get as your reward? Nothing. Everyone always needs saving, and you’re always there to save them, but why? Don’t you deserve some pleasure of your own?”

“You earn cocks.” A brutish Ogron grunted, her cock as huge as her face was ugly. “You bred as reward for being good.”

“Hmm, that’s right, just be a whore.” The Axon cooed, hooking her fingers into The Doctor’s already stretched lips and forcing her maw open wider. “You have a time machine… you can always go back and save the day once you’ve had your fill of fat, filthy cocks.”

The Doctor whined, nostrils flaring in anticipation as the Axon lined her golden cock up with her gaping mouth, the Silurian edging to the side to make room for both their rods to slam deep into the time-lord’s throat. Strangely, the thick, throbbing poles stretching her poor throat didn’t hurt nearly as much as it had when the Perisites had violated her in the exact same way, in fact, The Doctor felt herself piss another jet of her arousal onto the floor to join the growing puddle.

God, she really was a whore, wasn’t she?

So many regenerations, so many lives… fourteen versions of herself all dedicating their lifetimes to protecting life throughout the cosmos. Hadn’t she earned a break? She could spend this regeneration making herself happy and go right back to the heroics once this body’s time was done.

And in the meantime, she could guzzle as much stinking cum as her stupid, slutty body could take.

Her eyes lolled in her skull as her enemies-turned lovers casually manipulated the quivering mess of her body. She gurgled weakly, throat still plugged with a green and a golden cock, and trembled as both her cunt and sensitive, virgin asshole were roughly stuffed by the Draconian and Ogron respectively. Tears sparkled in her eyes at the pain, but her mind continued to scream out with pleasure even as the Ogron began to ram into her guts, her impossibly thick bitchbreaker ruining the time-lord’s poor pucker for good, and the Silurian lashed out with her venomous tongue, slapping her across the brow with the hot, slimy appendage.

Cum splattered onto her creamy flesh as the women unable to ram themselves into her holes blew their loads over her, stroking themselves off onto her blossoming belly, her quivering thighs, her heaving chest and her bright-red face. The smell and taste of cum overwhelmed the poor blonde, and soon she was quite lost to the world, trapped in a debased, hedonistic trance as she was ravished from all sides.

Yaz mewed and clung to one of her Angels as the eagle-winged blonde pressed deep into her sex, her cock reaching all the way inside her and prodding urgently at her cervix. “H…haha… careful.” The young girl giggled madly, “My babies are in there… don’t hurt them.”

“Mmm, we wish we could be the fathers to your children.” Another angel moaned, caressing her inky black hair as she continued to stroke off as many of her angels as she could, smiling stupidly up at the women presenting themselves to her. “Bring more of your wonderful bloodline into the world.”

Yaz giggled and slipped her mouth over the flattering angel’s cock, sinking deep down over it and rolling her tongue hungrily against her head. She was vaguely aware of how much time had passed, but only through how many steaming, potent loads of angelic sperm she’d swallowed down. It seemed the winged blondes took about half an hour to be ready to blow her load again, and Yaz was keeping close track of how many she devoured.

The Angel ploughing her sopping brown cunt moaned and threw her head back in delight, shooting load one-hundred deep into Yaz’s occupied babymaker. The girl quivered and went limp on the mountain of soft pillows, grinning into the middle-distance as her angels kept stroking and rubbing themselves against her. She moaned vaguely as the angel pulled out, and another took her place. The Angel gently patted Yaz’s cheek to get her attention and blushed as she weakly lifted her head to look at her.

“I love you so much, Mistress. Thank you for creating me.” She smiled shyly, rubbing her stiff, erect pole against the absolute mess between Yaz’s thighs. Yaz groaned and bit her lip, hands moving to rest over her cum-splattered breasts.

“F… fuck me…” she whimpered, completely breathless. “I want more… I need more.”

“As you wish, my love.” The angel smiled, pulling back to thrust deep inside the cummy, sticky mess, before freezing. Yaz blinked and then groaned as all of her Angels began to turn chrome and melted into the floor.

“Thank you for enjoying the pleasure-dome.” A soft robotic voice hummed from somewhere above her. “Your nine-hour relaxation programme is at an end. Recuperation and decontamination will begin momentarily. Please return to the pleasure-dome soon.”

Yaz whined and rolled over onto her stomach, the pillows had vanished and now she was sprawled helplessly on the metal floor. All the cum she’d so desperately swallowed and smeared over her tight young body was gone as well, she oddly missed the stickiness and the pungent, intoxicating scent.

The Doctor was lying flat on her face a little way away, vaguely twitching every now and again, her body bruised and scratched. “D… Doctor?” Yaz croaked, inching forwards along the floor.

“Mm hm.” The Doctor hummed, rolling her head to one side and smiling stupidly. “Oh… hi… I remember you.”

“Are you alright?”

“Just… a little bruised.” The Doctor mumbled sleepily. “Apparently Ogrons are really hung… or I think they’re hung and that’s why the dome made them like that… I guess this regeneration is… more depraved than I thought.”

“Your… perfect relaxation was… being brutalised by a bunch of aliens?”

“Hmmm.” The Doctor nodded, arching her back and sticking her butt up into the air to give it a little wiggle. “what was yours?”

“I had a gang of angels.” Yaz sighed dreamily. “They were so sweet… and so strong.” She paused and frowned to herself for a moment.

“What?”

“It’s just… I mean they were all blonde and they were all gorgeous… but now I think about it…” Yaz said slowly. “They all looked a bit like you.”

“Aw… I’m your fantasy.” The Doctor smiled. “You’re so sweet.”

“Shut up.”

Both of them squeaked as they were suddenly drenched with cold, rejuvenating chemicals and then blasted dry with hot air. As exhausted and broken as both women had been, when they stepped from the door of their suite, neither had ever felt better. The Doctor sighed and stretched happily, before ushering Yaz back into the Tardis and taking off in search of new playmates.

Self Care

After a disastrous training session Team RWBY returns to their dorm soaked. With Wiess, Blake and Yang abandoning her, Ruby is left alone to find and thoroughly enjoy her teammate's toys.

-o-o-o-

Beacon Academy hadn’t seen a storm like the one hitting it in a century. Winds whipped through the clifftop castle, howling at the doors, carrying hails of horizontal rain that crashed relentlessly against the windows. The trees around the campus were clinging to the ground valiantly, bowing to the gale as much as they could, but the grass was flattened and sodden from the sheer volume of water.

No one in their right mind would have gone out in the current weather, even classes had been suspended, and yet as the sun began to set behind a fat grey cloud, four miserable figures trudged into the dorms.

Ruby was being very quiet, lingering behind her teammates as they stamped water through the carpeted halls. She had thought training would be a good idea with the vital festival approaching, to get her and her teammates into shape and working at peak performance. Instead they’d been caught in the storm and forced to walk back from the emerald forest, their transport grounded by the tempest.

“I am going to be damp for weeks.” Wiess snarled to herself, her usually neat and elegant white hair plastered to her forehead. “Myrtenaster is completely waterlogged! My dust is ruined!”

“Why didn’t you check the weather forecast this morning?” Black groaned, shivering. Her hair was just as sodden as Wiess’, and underneath her bow her cat-ears were pressed low to her scalp, reflecting how utterly miserable their owner was.

“I… I forgot.” Ruby whined defensively, her voice becoming all the more high-pitched and squeakier. “The storm came in so fast!”

“Let’s… just hit the showers.” Yang sighed, flicking her hair out of her face and splashing Wiess by accident, rousing an insulted squeak from the already furious heiress. “Warm and wet is better than freezing and wet.”

Ruby pouted and followed her sister in sullen silence. Even if it had been her fault that they’d been caught in the storm the others didn’t have to take it out on her. So she’d forgotten to check the forecast, it was an honest mistake! And really that pilot ought to have mentioned something anyway, rather than keeping silent until it was too late and leaving them stranded in the woods.

She sighed miserably and rang out her hood, hopefully a shower would put the others in a better mood.

-o-o-o-

“So… um, anyone want to play video games?” Ruby asked slowly, eyeing the others. Wiess let out a contemptuous sigh from the bunk below her, Blake and Yang didn’t reply at all. “Right… ok.”

“Hey, Blake, Team CFVY set up a movie night in their dorm, wanna go check it out?” Yang asked after a while, looking up from her scroll. Blake set down her book and shrugged.

“Yeah, alright.”

Ruby pouted, and hung herself over the edge of her bed to look at Wiess, who immediately scoffed unpleasantly and stood. “Well, in that case I am going to go to the forge and repair Myrtenaster.” She said, shooting a cold look at ruby before stalking out of the room.

Yang sighed at the door, pinching her brow before turning back. “Hey, Rubes… you can come too if you want, it’s no problem.”

“You don’t really mean that, you just don’t want me to feel bad.” Ruby scowled, staring up at the ceiling.

Yang rolled her eyes. “Suit yourself.”

The door slammed shut and Ruby stayed in place for a while, scowling up at the roof and stewing in her anger. It wasn’t fair! She’d been just as cold and wet and miserable as the rest of them. Did they think she’d had them out in the rain as a joke?

She growled, angry and cold and frustrated, rolling over to the edge of her bed and scowling down at Yang’s bunk. She imagined her older sister was having a great time over in CFVY’s dorm, her and Blake and the others wrapped snugly in blankets, enjoying cocoa and laughing at some dumb Spruce Willis action film.

Something shiny and transparent caught her eye on the floor and she frowned, her silver eyes narrowing at whatever it was. Usually the underneath of Wiess’ bunk was as neat and orderly as everything else, but one of her bags had overturned when she impatiently yanked out her weapon-maintenance kit.

Ruby dropped down to the floor and crouched down, picking the little thing up and humming to herself. It was a little plastic rod, maybe five inches or so, transparent and smooth to the touch. It was slightly curved and one end seemed a little wider than the other.

Ruby might have been two years younger than the others, but she knew a dildo when she saw one. Thought honestly that was just because she’d once walked in on Yang masturbating a few years back when they attended Signal Academy. She laughed, of course Wiess would have a tiny, dainty little toy to take care of her prissy pussy, Wiess may have been older but she looked just as young as Ruby did. She was delicate and fragile, no matter how she tried to pretend her skills with a blade made up for it.

“I’m Wiess Schnee, I’m pretty and perfect and I know everything.” She simpered to herself, “I couldn’t possibly take anything more than this, it might disturb the stick up my butt!”

Ruby sighed and lay back on Wiess’ immaculately made bed, still holding the dildo in one hand. Raising a brow, she brought it up to her face and close to her nose, it didn’t smell of anything in particular. The plastic pushed against her lips. It didn’t taste of much either.

Ruby ran her tongue along the underside of the little thing, humming as she brought it a little deeper into her mouth. It really was small, she wondered how far into her mouth she could take it? She’d looked up porn once or twice on the internet, curious mostly. She supposed this must be what giving a blowjob felt like. It wasn’t too bad. She’d expected it to be harder.

“Hmmmm.” She cooed softly around the clear plastic, gently sliding it up and down into her mouth, her fingers tracing around her pyjama pants lazily. She’d started to get aroused, her petals puffy and sensitive and beginning to ooze her juices.

She wondered…

Maybe…

She’d never actually, properly masturbated. She’d had the talk from her dad about the Birds and the Bumblebees, and she’d seen yang playing with herself in the shower. Really the most she’d ever done herself was sit on the washing machine at home, enjoying the buzzing vibrations against her opening.

She slipped her pyjama pants down and spread her thighs a little, eyeing the plump pink mound of her cunt, and gently probing it with a finger. It felt good. It felt really good. She bit a lip and brought Wiess’ dildo down to her petals. It felt really fucking good.

“Ooooh!” she managed, cheeks burning as she pressed the dildo against herself like she had her mouth. The rounded end of the plastic slipped inside her easily, stretching her a little and drawing a sweet little moan from her lips. “W… wow.”

Eagerness for more overruled her caution quickly, and soon the wet ‘shlick’ sounds of Wiess’ dildo disappearing into her virgin cunny filled the dorm. Ruby cooed and whined in ecstasy, new sensations rolling through her body and urging her to continue. As her dominant hand set to work pushing the little dildo in and out of herself, her free hand roamed her body, experimenting to see where felt best. Fingers found her nipple and she moaned, beginning to knead the sweet little mound of flesh that was her breast.

Ruby sighed with delight and decided to move positions, rolling onto her side and tucking her legs up, pushing the dildo into herself faster and faster all the while. She tried fucking herself with one leg up in the air but got tired. Tried bouncing herself down onto it but couldn’t get the right purchase and just ended pushing the little thing around the bed.

Her first climax came as she knelt on all fours, face down against Wiess’ pillow, cheeks bright red and silver eyes shining with glee. As the fat pale peach of her ass stuck up in the air, she shoved Wiess’s tiny dildo deep into her tunnel and squealed with lust as an arc of her arousal jetted from the sopping mess she’d turned her cunt into, and spattered onto the carpet.

Had she been in her right mind, and not riding the high of her very first orgasm, she might have been concerned that the carpet might smell of her cum when her teammates returned, not to mention Wiess’ bed and dildo. Instead her mind focussed on the fact that she had just been made to feel better than she had ever before and began to make certain logical assumptions.

If Wiess, prim and proper and composed at all times, owned a sextoy like this to satisfy her needs, there was no way that Blake and Yang weren’t also hiding their own playthings.

Ruby leapt off the bed and began her search, the thrill of her orgasm replaced with the deviant glee of searching through her friend and sister’s belongings in search of things to shove into her cunt.

Blake didn’t disappoint. Behind a copy of the third ninjas of love volume was a secret little nook in which lay a dark purple Rabbit Vibrator. Ruby didn’t know the name of it of course, and her first thought was pure shock that Blake owned a vibrator that fitted in both holes at once.

Cradling her prize with a victorious little grin, ruby settled herself right there on the floor and began to experiment. It only took a second for her to find out how to turn the plump silicon phallus on, but it took longer for her to realise the extension was not, in fact, designed to be put into her ass. After playing around for a few moments, she brought the extension against the shiny pearl of her clit and almost came on the spot.

With a high pitched “Aiiiiii!” of amazement, Ruby brought the buzzing thing away from herself and grinned. Spreading her thighs and snatching up Wiess’ toy, still glistening with her own juices, Ruby brought Blake’s vibrator down against her opening, slipping it as deep inside her as she could and going cross-eyed with delight as the extension nuzzled against her clit.

She stifled her cry of arousal with Wiess’s little plaything, sealing her lips around it and sucking it as she’d watched those women do in the videos. It was hard to multitask at first, but soon she was drooling happily over the transparent plastic, tugging the fat purple vibe against her over and over until her knees turned inwards and she came again. The stimulation against her clit was heavenly, like how she’d felt straddling her washing machine amplified and focussed directly onto her most sensitive spot. Any shame or reluctance at using her friend’s toys was well and truly gone. In their place, only growing depravity remained.

Ruby found herself disappointed that Blake’s vibrator hadn’t been built to stuff both of her holes, though she wouldn’t give up the buzzing against her clit for anything. The thought occurred that she had something that would do the job perfectly already, and it was resting against her tongue, dripping with spit and cum.

Her fingers, wet with her spit, probed her rosebud eagerly. Ruby couldn’t help but mew as her finger sank to the first knuckle into her pucker, with Blake’s vibe taking care of her cunt, it was almost perfect. She wasted no time, slathering Wiess’s dildo with her spit begore pushing it firmly against her asshole. Her tongue lolled stupidly from her mouth as she forced it inside, both holes stuffed full for the first time in her life, flooding her brain with pleasure and egging her on for more and more and more.

Yang… Yang had to have something good.

Ruby moaned and crawled under her bed, her ass sticking up with both sextoys nestled deep inside, buzzing away and making her drip her quim like a leaky faucet. Pale hands found a large box and opened it. Silver eyes widened. An already panting mouth fell open.

Ruby pulled back, whimpering as another orgasm came near, and cradled the immense horse-cock dildo in her hands.

How had Yang hidden this? It must have been the length of her arm! Gods it was as thick as a soda can too. How could her sister take this monstrous cock at all?

Ruby was smitten immediately. There was nothing she cared about more than resting herself on the fat black base of this magnificent monster cock.

With Wiess’ dildo still nestled in her rear, Ruby stood and trembled, looking down at the fat rubber cock. Blake’s vibrator buzzed impatiently in her hand and she switched it off with a flick of her thumb, there could be no distractions. There was a bottle of lube in the box too, she pulled the whole cap off and drenched the shiny rubber spade-shaped head of the dildo. Panting for breath, Ruby lowered herself down to the ground, holding the immense pillar of rubber up against her sweet little belly. If she really did manage to slide herself all the way down onto the monstrosity it would be resting deep in her belly, filling her completely. Ruby bit her lip and rubbed her hands up and down its length, bringing it slowly against her gushing opening.

“h... ha... oh... fu... fuck.” she squeaked as her petals stretched wide, the pain bringing tears to her eyes before she let out a delighted whine, her opening squeezing tight as the flared head disappeared inside her. “Fuck!”
she trembled in place for a while, biting her lip and whimpering as her hips rolled against the inhuman dildo. Working up her courage, she gagged herself with Blake’s vibrator and began to push herself downwards. Her eyes crossed, pupils dilating and her tongue lolling around the base of the slick purple silicon, inch after inch slowly disappearing into her pussy. An hour ago she’d been a virgin, now she was half impaled on a dildo larger than most women had ever seen, but Ruby didn’t much care, the only thought in her head was to take more and more into her greedy holes.

She shifted her weight a little, carefully moving Blake’s vibrator aside, and planted her legs on either side of the dildo, sitting on it. She ground her teeth together, took a deep breath through her nose, and used her powerful thighs to force herself down the final few inches until rubber testicles kissed the sticky mess that her virgin pussy had become.

Ruby basked in the amazing sensations, hands resting over her bulging belly. Her eyes stared blankly into the middle-distance, a thin trickle of spit was oozing from her vacant grinning maw.

It wasn’t enough.

The debased, broken, mess of a girl that had once been Ruby Rose was never going to be satisfied by just sitting on a dildo, even one as monstrously huge as the one buried in her cunt. Slowly, with wet, gurgling grunts of effort, Ruby began to bounce herself. Soon Team RWBY’s dorm was thick with the sound of a young girl’s cunt being relentlessly ruined and stinking with the scent of her cum. Ruby howled and moaned, greedily inhaling Yang’s inhuman bitch-breaking dildo into her womanhood, her hands were cupped around its base, making sure it made its way as deep inside her with every thrust, and ensuring it didn’t escape her cunt when she tugged it back from her gushing hole.

Sprays of Ruby’s quim soaked the carpet, Wiess and Yang’s beds, everything in range of Team RWBY’s fearless leader’s gaping cunt. Ruby didn’t care, she didn’t even notice, she was too busy moving onto her front and snatching up Blake’s vibe. The same tears of pain that had run down Ruby’s bright red cheeks when she shoved Yang’s dildo into her hole began to well in her eyes as she forced Blake’s buzzing toy into her pucker right alongside Wiess’s dildo.

The sensation of being stretched by all three of her teammates toys finally pushed Ruby over the edge, a small, satisfied whine escaping her lips as she fell onto her face and came one last time.

She didn’t pass out exactly, but for the next half-hour Ruby certainly wasn’t conscious. She knelt with her face against the carpet and her ass in the air, silver eyes rolled up in her skull and pretty pink tongue lolling onto the floor. Red-faced, sweat-licked and jerking weakly every few moments, Ruby was unrecognisable from the innocent, pretty young leader of Beacon’s premier huntress team. Dark hair stuck to her forehead, fingers twitched, her pussy continued to drip her arousal down her thighs. Blake’s vibrator continued to buzz away inside her stretched pucker, finally bringing her to a gentle little orgasm that woke Ruby up to the rest of the world.

She whimpered as she tugged the vibrator out of her asshole, and whined just as much as Wiess’s tiny toy almost slipped completely inside her, forcing her to push two fingers inside herself to slide it free. It was nothing compared to slipping every last inch of Yang’s horsecock out of her cunt, each rise and bump of the meticulously sculpted rubber making Ruby squeak and quiver with delight.

As Ruby lay, trembling as the cool air brushed her sensitive insides, the reality of her situation came back to her.

“Oh noooooooo.” came a small, embarrassed whine, as the leader of Team RWBY dragged herself and the dildos towards the bathroom, hoping that her friends wouldn’t come back before she could erase the evidence of the evening's fun.

Aphrodite's Curse: Circe's Trap

As Diana and Cheetah spread Aphrodite's curse to every woman in the DC universe, Zatanna visits Circe to try and break the enchantment slowly taking over the world.

-o-o-o-

Zatanna hadn’t quite known what to expect from Circe’s lair, frowning as she melted out of a shadow and peered around. Given Circe’s past, she’d half expected a cave, dark and dank with the traditional magical paraphernalia of a seasoned sorceress. Another part of her, having met Circe just recently, had expected some penthouse or mansion, the old witch’s current persona had seemed to appreciate the finer things in life. What she found was an odd blend of the two.

Circe’s cave was wide and low, lit with tiny sparkling stars that would fit in the palm of Zatanna’s hand, as well as strings of fairy lights draped over the cave ceiling and twisting around the long pillars of stone. The soft sound of flowing water filled the cave, a thin, silvery stream curving its way through the rocky floor. 

Despite the fact that Circe’s lair was, ultimately, a cave, it was nicer than most apartments, certainly Zatanna’s own. Neat platforms dotted the cave floor, wooden panelled and linked by slim stone bridges. There was a library, with books slipped into convenient nooks in the stone. A kitchen, a lounge, a small office space, higher up Zatanna could see what looked like a garden, and on another platform was a piano.

“Word to the wise.”

Zatanna spun on her heel, ready to defend herself. Circe simply raised a brow, perched in a small alcove with a glass of wine. “If you’re going to sneak into someone’s home, maybe make sure they’re not there first.”

“Circe.” Zatanna frowned, slowly lowering her hands.

“Or, if they are home, maybe don’t stand around admirin’ the place and get caught.”

“I came to speak with you.” Zatanna said, scowling as Circe dropped nimbly to the floor and finished off her wine. “Not to fight.”

“Oh, I’m so relieved.” Circe laughed, sauntering past and swatting Zatanna’s top hat off her head. “For a moment I was worried you’d pull a rabbit out of your hat and set it on me.” Zatanna’s scowl deepened and she picked up her hat, brushing it off fondly and watching as Circe swaggered up to her desk, setting down her empty glass. 

The sorceress was just as she’d been the last time Circe had seen her, young, beautiful, with short, wavy ginger hair and sharp blue eyes. She wore a simple but no doubt expensive grey suit, her shirt unbuttoned low enough to show she wasn’t wearing a bra. There was a necklace about her dainty throat, a simple golden strand, Zatanna didn’t know why but it seemed familiar.

“Do you know what’s been happening?” Zatanna asked, folding her arms as Circe sat on her desk and inspected her nails. “You usually keep an eye on the magical community.”

“Sure do.”

“So, you’ve seen?”

Circe rolled her eyes. “Yes, I’ve seen. And I probably understand better than you do.”

“I understand well enough.” Zatanna snapped, “Diana’s clearly been cursed by some powerful demon, and she’s infecting every woman she can get her hands on, making them all like her. She’s building a damn harem out of all of America and anyone with any chance of stopping her is already under her control!”

“Hmm, close, but no cigar.” Circe sighed tiredly, summoning a cigarette and taking a long, slow draw. “S’ not a curse. Not exactly, not in the eyes of who cast it at least. Just a charm, they’d probably say a blessing.”

“And who cast it?”

“Aphrodite.” Circe said, slowly, as if she were talking to a child. “Word is Wondie’s new attitude is thanks to Aphrodite getting tired of her causing trouble, had her and Cheetah fall in love to prove a point. Problem is she sent them out to spread the word, as it were, so they’re transmitting the love spell. Wonder Woman’s not controlling anyone, they’re just in love with her, enough to obey her no matter what.”

“Whatever the case, can you help? Can you fix them?”

Circe smiled, showing off neat, pearly teeth, and rested her chin in one palm. “And why would I do that?”

“I can pay, one sorceress to another I have a few artefacts of power you’d find interesting.”

“Sorceress? Ha!” Circe laughed. “Oh sweetheart… you’re a magician. I’m a sorceress. The difference is night and day.”

Zatanna bit back her retort, desperation to free her friends and allies from the lust-fuelled party that had been relentlessly swallowing every woman it touched overruling her pride. She sighed and folded her arms a little tighter against her chest. “Will you help me or not?”

Circe flashed another dazzling smile and tilted her head. “Yeah, alright. I’ll see what I can do.”

“What’s your price?”

“I know that this will be hard to believe.” Circe sighed mournfully, putting on an exaggerated pout and inspecting her nails. “But I’ve been so very lonely of late. Supervillainy passes the time nicely but there’s so little opportunity for intimacy.” She flashed another grin and wiggled her eyebrows. Zatanna’s heart sunk, her cheeks flushing in an instant.

“There must be something else…”

“All I ask is an hour or two of your time. Take care of my needs, and I’ll see about breaking up Wonder Woman’s little party.” Circe cooed.

Zatanna winced and hugged herself. There wasn’t a choice, not really. Even if Wonder Woman hadn’t been the most powerful super heroine on the planet, she’d seduced dozens of others to create an army capable of conquering the planet in a few hours if they took a day off from fucking like rabbits. Zatanna had watched them fall one by one, powerless to stop them. First the member of the league, and then every other hero in America. It wouldn’t be long until Diana and her new feline lover set their sights on the rest of the world.

“I… I’ll do it.” She whispered. “Free them… and… I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Ah ah, payment first.” Circe cooed, “Here, let me set the mood.”

She snapped her fingers and suddenly both she and Zatanna we’re sitting on a wide, soft, heart-shaped bed, entirely naked and surrounded by scattered rose-petals. Zatanna squeaked and hurried to cover herself, cheeks burning as Circe cackled and lay back, drinking in the magician’s every curve.

“My my, your legs are even nicer out of the fishnets.” Circe purred, parting her thighs and stroking her hand through a neat patch of curls the same fiery red as her hair. “Although, this isn’t really all that fun, is it? Isn’t the appeal of us supers our colourful costumes?”

She snapped her fingers again and Zatanna scowled, looking down and seeing the outfit she’d been given. Her usual jacket was wrapped comfortingly about her shoulders but was entirely open, presenting her bare breasts to the world. Her belly was snug in a yellow corset similar to the waistcoat she sometimes wore. Her fishnet tights were now stockings, leaving her thighs and hips bare.

“Are you finished?” She growled, scowling at Circe, now lounging in a loose bottle-green robe.

“Why Zatanna, I’d almost think you were eager to get a taste of me.” Circe cooed, preening.

“I just want my friends back.” Zatanna hissed, crawling closer and batting Circe’s legs apart. She shook her head, black curls bouncing for a moment, before taking a breath and lowering herself to Circe’s petals. It had been a while, but Circe’s soft gasp was enough to tell her she hadn’t lost what she’d learned all those years ago ‘studying’ with Madam Xanadu. She shivered embarrassedly and planted her hands firmly on either side of her, refusing to touch Circe and make things any more intimate.

Circe had no intention of letting her do this, yanking her hands against her thighs and taking the blushing magician by the back of the head. She felt her reluctant lover stiffen and grinned, pushing a loud, passionate moan. “Oh Zatanna!” She purred. “Oh yes! Oh, that’s wonderful!”

Zatanna groaned, glaring up at her but continuing to dutifully roll her tongue up and down her slit. Circe’s sex tasted sweeter than anyone else Zatanna had tasted before, not that her repertoire was particularly wide. She shivered as Circe’s fingers stroked through her hair. Damn it, all she had to do was get Circe to cum and she was done, her friends would be free! Why was she thinking about this? Why was she paying attention to how Circe tasted? How she felt against her. How she smelled. How her sultry, rasping voice cooed and sighed with delight with every loving flick of her tongue.

“H… hah.” She groaned, blinking as Circe tugged her away. “Wh… what?”

“Nothing, just wanted to look you in the eye.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re enjoying this.” Circe grinned. “Look… at… that. Zatanna Zatara’s having fun! You sure Di didn’t spread a little love to you? Because I haven’t had a ‘hero’ go down on me this eagerly since Penthesilia, and that was centuries ago.”

“Sh… shut up.”

“Ah, right of course.” Circe smiled. “You want to get back to work, I understand.” Her hand grabbed Zatanna by her luscious inky locks and yanked her tight against her opening.

“Hmmmph!” Zatanna whined, getting a nose full of the sorceress’ cunt before wriggling herself back into position. She was uncomfortably aware of how cool the air of the cave felt against her opening, making it unmistakably obvious how sopping wet she’d made herself as she tongued the cocky sorceress’ cunt.

Slowly, without really thinking about it, one hand left Circe’s thigh and began to wander down over her body.  Her breath hitched as her fingers touched her slick, sensitive petals, a lungful of air perfumed with Circe’s sex coursing through her body and making whatever was making her feel so hopelessly drawn to the obnoxious sorceress all the stronger.

If Zatanna hadn’t been completely focused on Circe’s pussy, she might have seen the golden cord around the sorceress’ neck glow brightly, as if charged by the passionate lovemaking Zatanna was trying not to admit she was enjoying. 

Circe mewed and fingered the loop of perfect, glowing metal, lashes fluttering as it drew her deeper under Aphrodite’s spell. It had been days since Diana had found and conquered her, days and days of lovemaking with too many women to count, and Circe’s mind was long since lost to the unstoppable potency of Aphrodite’s curse.

“Ohhh…. Diana…” Circe breathed at a particularly sharp flick of Zatanna’s tongue.

Zatanna didn’t hear, oblivious to the trap she’d wandered into. Even if she had, Circe tasted so good, and her grip on her scalp made her tremble so delightfully, the poor young magician might just have lost herself all by herself.

Circe groaned as Zatanna’s greedy worship grew more and more passionate to the point that the redhead felt control slipping away from her. she hissed and forced herself to yank Zatanna away, tossing the startled woman onto her back and staggering to her feet. She would have said something clever, but Zatanna’s tongue was magnificent and all she really wanted was to feel it wriggling inside her again. She smacked Zatanna down firmly onto the bed with a blast of wind from her palm and straddled her face, mewing as her sopping sex mashed against the magician’s mouth.

Zatanna’s eyes rolled, thoughts of defiance well and truly purged from her mind and set to work devouring Circe’s cunt. The sorceress’ hands raked through her hair as she rode her face, svelte body rolling and pretty face blushing as Zatanna stared up at her. Both women were moaning and clutching at each other in seconds. Circe howled with delight as her orgasm came, fingers clinging to Zatanna’s scalp. Zatanna let out a helpless whimper as the sorceress slipped back and slowly licked her lips. Her hands moved away from her opening; her own orgasm having sapped what little strength she’d clung to.

“Hello Zatanna.”

The dark-haired magician lifted her head sleepily and groaned, seeing Wonder Woman standing by the bed, Circe clutching one arm and nuzzling her face against the Amazon’s earlobe.

“I hoped I’d find you soon.” Diana beamed, “You’re such an amazing woman. It would be an honour to lie with you.”

“N… no… no wait.” Zatanna mumbled, forcing herself up and trying to bat Diana’s hands away, only for her to gently wind her lasso around her throat. “I don’t… I don’t want to…”

“The lasso compels you to tell the truth.” Wonder Woman smiled. “There’s no lies between us, Zatanna.”

“I want it so badly.” Zatanna whined, immediately succumbing to the Lasso’s magic. “I want to kiss you and hold you… god I want you to fucking rail me, you’re so strong and powerful. I want you to sit on my face!”

Diana laughed and brought her sword to the lasso, cutting it with a neat flash of the blade. The severed cords of molten metal flailed in the air for an instant before zipping together, sealing and locking around Zatanna’s throat. A perfect, unbroken circlet of magical metal. Zatanna would be trapped in submissive, honest obedience for eternity now, completely enslaved both to the lasso’s enchantment and Aphrodite’s curse.

Zatanna whimpered and tugged at her new collar, big blue eyes staring adoringly up at the Amazon she was now bound to. “D… Diana… fuck me?” she pleaded meekly, earning a gentle kiss that only made the ache to be ravished stronger.

“Soon, sweet.” Diana chuckled. “Barbara Ann loves to sample all our new playthings, and you’ll make such a lovely gift for her.”

“What about me?” Circe pouted, “Can I finally come play with the others?”

Diana sighed and stroked the sorceress’ cheek. “There are still powerful magic users we haven’t liberated yet, I need you to help lure them in, like Zatanna here.”

“But it’s not fair.” Circe scowled. “Why just me? Why not get Dr Fate to do it?”

“Inza still resists Lady Aphrodite’s magics. The helmet is protecting her somehow.” Diana said sadly, reaching out and cupping Circe’s face. She kissed her softly and stared into her eyes, the immortal redhead trembling at her touch. “I can trust only you for this duty, dearest. I know how powerful you are, you can easily liberate whomever comes to you from their silly notions of freedom. When the mistresses of magic share my bed, I shall reward you myself.”

“Swear it.” Circe scowled petulantly, regaining a touch of her usual swagger.

“On my heart, dearest.” Wonder Woman breathed, bringing her lips just millimetres away from Circe’s as she spoke, before turning and guiding Zatanna to her feet. Circe swayed, mouth open in anticipation of the kiss, only to pout and glare as Wonder Woman neatly leashed Zatanna and led her away, delicious rear bouncing in the tiny blue underwear of her suit.

Circe whined as they left and fell back on her bed to sulk, bringing her fingers to her opening and masturbating to the memory of Zatanna’s blushing submission.

Happy New Year.

Hello! It's been a while, (longer than I'd planned.) Some of y'all might have been wondering what's been going on since I said I'd be back early January. Long story short, family drama and a broken laptop meant that I was essentially unable to write a thing over the break. Everything's sorted now and it's back to the usual schedule.

Coming up we've got the last two chapters of The End of The Tomb Raider plus the next part of Reunion, with Jane and Jack paying a visit to a justicar monastery for a weekend with Samara.

Holiday Break.

Taking a break from posting for the holidays. I ought to be back early January with new perversions for your perusal. In the meantime take care and have fun. X

(Commission) The Clean Room.

A piece commissioned by PrimeArch, featuring Tali getting into some unclean fun in a ship’s clean room along with her fellow Quarians.

-o-o-o-

The hum of a ship’s engine was a constant for travellers, a constant drone of background noise that was a comforting constant to those who spent their lives amongst the stars. For Tali’Zorah Vas Normandy, the sound was like a lullaby, soothing her like a soft blanket.

At least it usually was.

She let out a sigh and rolled onto her side in her bunk, scowling at the purple glass of her visor. It had been a week since she’d joined the crew of the Raiya and she still wasn’t used to sleeping in a real bed. Her mattress on the flotilla might as well have been a sheet of cardboard, and the Normandy hadn’t been much better, but those had been warships, the Raiya was strictly civilian. 

It had seemed too good to be true, finding an Asari trading vessel willing to take on Quarian crew, and one taking the long journey from one edge of the galaxy to the other at that. The perfect opportunity for Tali to get some distance from what was familiar, for her to try and forget about the war for a time.

It wasn’t working out as well as she’d hoped. She wasn’t sleeping enough; her appetite was low and she was barely interacting with the rest of the crew outside of the bare minimum required by her engineering position. She had barely even begun to get to know her roommate, a fellow Quarian, Lana’Reve Vas Shanshay. She frowned suddenly and sat up.

Lana wasn’t in her bunk, usually at this time she’d be long asleep and snoring. Where could she have gone?

Tali looked about the room before slipping from her bed and putting her hands on her hips. Maybe there was a party she hadn’t been invited to; Lana was certainly friendly with all the other Quarians on the ship. She scowled. If there was something going on, it would be happening in one of the clean rooms the Asari Captain had set up as safe spaces for her Quarian crewmembers. She hadn’t visited any of them yet, but it was about time she found out what her fellow Quarians were doing without her.

-o-o-o-

Tali let out a quiet breath as the pressure balanced around her, the airlock into the clean room hissing softly before the lock on the door flashed from red to green. She allowed a small smile and lifted her helmet, running her fingers through her long black hair. It had been so long since she’d been out of the suit.

“Hey, Lana, are you in…” She asked as the door slid open walking into the clean room, only to freeze as she saw she wasn’t alone. Lana was indeed in the clean room along with another Quarian she didn’t recognise, but that wasn’t what shocked her. It was the fact both women were half-naked and squatting by one wall, making the most obscene slurping and gagging sounds as they pressed their naked, sweaty chests against the panels.

Tali squeaked in mixed surprise and disgust, her shout making both Lana and the other Quarian jump in surprise.

“Tali!” Lana gasped, spinning on her knees and clutching a hand to her heaving chest. Tali caught a glimpse of dark purple nipples capping the fat orbs and her cheeks burned all the more. “W… what are you doing here?”

“What am I… What are you doing!” Tali demanded. Her eyes drifted from Lana’s naked flesh to something odd and blue that was protruding from the wall. It was a cock, fat and blue and throbbing. Its purple head twitched slightly in the cool air, the whole fleshy pole glistened with a thin sheen of Quarian spit. “Keelah.” Tali mumbled, swallowing as she saw Lana wrap her hand back around the thick Asari shaft and pet it fondly, her cheeks were dark and her lips were parted in a low lustful pant.

“It’s just a bit of fun, Tali.” She said, eyes darting from the shocked Quarian to the pulsing cock nestled in her palm. “Haven’t you ever come out of your suit to be with someone?”

“Th… that’s different!” Tali scowled, arms crossed defensively even as she rubbed her thighs together. Her breath hitched in a surprised gasp as Lane parted her lips and kissed the cock, mewing happily, her lashes fluttering with delight. Apparently the Asari behind the wall was enjoying herself too, because the cock jerked between her lips and oozed a thick droplet of pre that fell to the floor with a wet smack. Lana pouted at seeing it go to waste, and Tali shivered, seeing the hungry glint in her roommate’s eyes.

She cleared her throat nervously, torn between leaving and trying to talk some sense into the younger Quarian. She glanced at the other woman with Lana, who had immediately returned to slurping at the cock protruding from the wall, her two-fingered hand eagerly stroking another from a third hole between her and Lana. God all of the cocks were so big. Were all Asari so hung?

Tali shook her head, defiant in the face of all the thoughts bubbling up in the back of her mind, and stalked closer. “This is completely inappropriate! What if the captain finds out about this? Don’t you think she’ll take the first chance to fire us she gets?”

“Hhmmm.” Lana murmured dismissively, kissing the underside of the cock and ignoring Tali’s scandalised expression.

“Do you have any idea how lucky we are to find someone willing to hire Quarians at all!?” Tali tried again. “And you’re putting our jobs at risk to act like... like some omega slut!?”

“Who’d you think set this up?” Lana slurred, unzipping her suit a little further and cushioning the cock between her plump purple tits. “Captain’s fine with this, the only person who has a problem is you.”

“W... what?”

“Look, we’re having fun here, we don’t need prudes like you ruining the mood.” Lana scowled, spitting onto her chest and clapping the far purple orbs together on either side of the Asari she was gleefully servicing.

As Tali watched Lana began to roll her chest against the Asari pole between her tits, suckling happily on its fat purple tip as it thrust between her breasts. To the left, the other Quarian was gurgling wetly, her lips locked against the wall, her throat swelling around the thick shaft lodged in her gullet. She was older than Tali, generously curved and even less concerned with how much of a slut she looked like. Whilst Lana was kneeling and almost daintily servicing her Asari, the older Quarian was squatting low, the fat peach of her ass hugged snugly by her skin-tight suit, and the plump, sopping mess of her cunt pulsing against the thin fabric as if there was nothing covering it at all.

A wet coo escaped her lips and an audible pumping sound filled the room. Tali watching in jealous horror as the older woman’s lashes fluttered with delight and her cheeks puffed up. A thin trickle of pale-blue sperm oozed from her nostrils and she pulled away, giggling and licking the mess covering her face and udders clean.

The cock slipped back out of the hole in the wall and a small metal something was tossed through before it sealed. The Quarian milf giggled and scooped it up, showing it off to Lana. “Look! They're paying us now!”

“Five credits is more than an old whore like you is worth.” Lana grinned, glancing at Tali who was still staring at them. She raised a brow and jerked her head in her direction. The milf shrugged and then smiled, standing up and resting her palms on Tali’s shoulders.

“Want a closer look?” she asked softly, pushing Tali to her knees and forcing her closer to the cock currently waiting for service.

“N... no.” Tali mumbled weakly. She could feel her cheeks burning as she was brought level with the twitching pole and was uncomfortably aware of how tight and sticky her suit had become at the crotch. “This is... so wrong.”

“It’s fine.” the older Quarian purred, her breath tickling Tali’s cheek, it stank of cum. “Just give it a try, it’ll be fun!”

Tali tried to push back against her hands as they pushed her forwards, but all her strength seemed to have disappeared. She whimpered as her lips pressed against the fat purple head of the cock in front of her, determined to stay in control and not give in to the lewd instincts roaring in her head.

Her lips parted and she gasped, eyes wide as the head of the Asari cock slipped into her mouth. The taste was odd, but not unpleasant, and Tali felt her tongue roll against the invading cockhead on instinct. Behind her she heard a giggle and smiled, at least they didn’t think she was a prude anymore, and really, what was the harm? It wasn’t like any of the Asari crew would know, even whoever’s cock was nestled comfortably in her cheek hadn’t got a clue she was the slut sucking her off.

Slowly, she began to bob her head back and forth, humming thoughtfully as the pole of Asari meat filled her mouth. It was oddly nice, at least until the Asari behind the wall jerked her hips and poked the back of Tali’s throat with her cock. Tali spluttered and tried to pull away, only for her head to be pushed forwards in place by the milf behind her. She gurgled helplessly, eyes wide in shock as she felt the pillar of cockmeat force its way down her gullet, filling her completely.

The sensation of her dainty little throat being stretched out was incredible. Tali whimpered wetly, spit bubbling up between her stretched lips and beginning to drip down onto her heaving chest, still tight in her suit. Her eyes rolled to one side and saw Lana worshipping her cock, greedily devouring it and slathering it with her tongue.

Before she knew what she was doing, she was pulling her head back and slapping it forwards, throating the cock with long, careful motions. Soon she was gagging and slurping at it just as the other two had been just minutes before, eyes crossing as she stared down at the shaft in her mouth. The taste hadn’t been bad at first, but now she was starting to love it. The heat between her thighs was getting more and more intense, and it was only the final remnants of her shame that stopped herself from reaching down and sinking her fingers deep into her sopping hole.

Lana cried out with delight as her Asari spewed a half-dozen ropes of pearly blue sperm over her chest and face. On her right, Tali heard the milf moan, looking and whining as she saw her forcing herself back against yet another cock protruding from the wall. She'd thrown her suit aside entirely, and was guiding the thick blue shaft into the dripping mess of her cunt, her tongue lolling and her fat udders quivering with bliss.

Tali’s jealousy was only growing, there was this feral, lustful need growling inside her. She wanted to be painted with sperm inside and out just like Lana, wanted to be fucked like a cheap slut by some faceless Asari like whoever that milf was. 

She was so consumed by her envy of the others that she was completely unprepared for the cock in her mouth to cum. She gagged and choked as the first spray of semen poured onto her tongue, falling back and spluttering as the rest spattered onto her beautiful face.

Lana giggled, licking the last of her own reward off her fingers and grinning as Tali sat and stared stupidly at the hole in the wall. “Feels good right?”

Tali swallowed and licked her lips, her hands pressing urgently against the crotch of her suit. “Y... yeah.”

“You want more?”

Tali bit her lip and nodded.

(Commission) Tayuya’s Victory.

A commissioned piece featuring Naruto’s Hinata falling victim to Tayuya’s bitchbreaker.

-o-o-o-

Hinata hit the ground with a dull thud, the impact knocking the breath from her lungs and leaving her helpless. She croaked and raised her head, dazed. How could this be happening? Why was she out in the forest alone trying to fight an assassin? She hated fighting! She could barely stand up to her friends let alone a trained killer, and Tayuya wasn’t just a killer. She was one of the Sound Four, she’d survived years in prison, winning battle after battle just to stay alive, how could Hinata ever hope to defeat her?

She coughed weakly and managed to push herself up onto her knees, only for two sandalled feet to smack against the ground right in front of her. She squeaked as Tayuya’s hand grabbed her by the jaw and squeezed. “Ah...w... wait! Tayuya San! Please don’t kill me!”

The expression on Tayuya’s face was chilling, her smile cold and cruel. A shiver of terror ran down Hinata’s spine and she swallowed, hoping against hope that someone would arrive to save her. Tayuya's grip on her cheeks tightened and she leaned down, flashing her teeth in a hungry grin. “Killing you would be a waste. You may be trash, but you’re pretty trash, and I don’t like to ruin a pretty face if I don’t have to.”

“L... look... I don’t even want to fight you. It's just that you’re going to hurt people I care about.” Hinata whined, trying to move Tayuya’s grip on her cheeks but failing, the assassin’s hand like a vice around her face. “We don’t have to fight!”

“Oh, don’t worry.  I think we’ll be very good friends.” Tayuya purred, tilting her head back a little, her dark eyes flashing over Hinata’s body. The pale girl’s cheeks blushed darkly as Tayuya didn’t even try to hide the hunger in her eyes. She’d been very quick to develop, possessing a deliciously womanly figure well before the other girls her age, now at eighteen, she had curves that routinely made older women jealous.

Tayuya grinned and cocked a boyish hip, pushing Hinata to the ground and looming over her. “If you do what I say, I'll make sure you live a nice long life. You'll be my pet. Happy and safe, as long as you do what you’re told.”

“Wh... what? I don’t understand.” Hinata gulped, trembling on the floor as Tayuya fingered the long silver flute hanging from her belt.

“Do you want to die?” she whispered.

“N... no.”

“Good. Take off your clothes.” Tayuya’s grip on her flute tightened, and memories of the horrific things the girl could do with it flashed in Hinata’s terrified mind. Terrified and ashamed, she began to undress.

Her pale lavender eyes were locked onto the grassy forest floor as she unzipped her jacket, setting the padded cream-coloured coat down carefully, trying to hold off the moment she would have to take off her shirt and show tayuya what lay beneath. Her sandals went next and then her pants, finally, with trembling fingers, she slipped her shirt over her head and knelt in front of the assassin.

“Ha!” Tayuya laughed, taking a perverse glee in watching Hinata’s quivering body expose itself. “No wonder the others keep you around with this rack. You can’t fight for shit but you’re damn fine eye-candy!”

Hinata whimpered, face bright red as Tayuya stepped close and brought her hand down to rest on her heaving chest. Calloused fingers brushed against pale, silk-soft flesh, and Hinata whined as her heavy breast was groped and squeezed casually. Her thin purple bra did nothing to protect her sensitive nipples from being toyed with, the tiny things standing to attention and rising against the soft fabric cups.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Tayuya purred, “But I bet you’d feel better with these fat tits out in the open!” She yanked sharply at Hinata’s front and her bra snapped from the strain immediately. Hinata let out a humiliated whimper as her plump, round breasts bounced free and quivered in the cool air.

Tayuya laughed and played with them for a few moments, weighing and squeezing and tugging on them, clapping them together before finally letting her go. Her hands moved to press against her crotch and she groaned as something long and thick pulsed against her leg.

“Hmmm, man you’ve got me hard.” she breathed. “Haven’t had the chance to blow off some steam in ages, and here you are, just what I need right when I need it.”

Hinata watched in horror as Tayuya yanked down her shorts and cackled with perverse glee at the terrified expression on Hinata’s face. The poor, pretty thing was pale at the best of times, but now she was white as a sheet, staring at the inhuman pole of flesh that was Tayuya’s favourite toy.

The poor girl had never seen a cock before, let alone one like the twitching foot of girlmeat destined to be sunk deep into her. Hinata whimpered, too concerned with the size and girth of Tayuya’s member to resist the assassin’s grip on her head, guiding her close against the pole of flesh until her face was nuzzled tight against it. Hinata’s eyes crossed as she stared at the inhuman cock, her breath coming oddly hard and fast, she could feel her heart fluttering and her mind clouding. In an instant, fear was replaced by an odd sense of serenity as Hinata mewed and brought her hands up to the thick pillar of meat, stroking it in a trance.

Mouth open, Hinata let out a soft gasp and fell against Tayuya, her full, womanly chest squishing around the slimmer girl’s legs. The assassin laughed at her, fingers raking through dark blue hair and keeping Hinata close to her, breathing in her musk and clouding her mind with filthy, lewd thoughts as she nuzzled against her cock.

“Hmmm, you’re an eager one.” Tayuya cooed mockingly. “You look so sweet and innocent under that bulky coat, but take it off and you’re revealed to be a stupid, fat-titted, cockslut.”

“I'm... not.” Hinata croaked, voice trembling. Even as she spoke her lips brushed against Tayuya’s skin, her mouth filling with spit as she salivated.

“Hmm, course’ not.”

Hinata squeaked meekly as she was yanked backwards, Tayuya using her free hand to line her twitching tip up with the pale girl’s panting mouth. She thought for a desperate moment that she could reason with the red-haired girl, work out some kind of deal that didn’t involve her mouth being used as a cock-socket. The moment passed quickly, even as her mouth opened, mind racing to find some magic word to save her, Tayuya thrust forwards.

With a wet gurgle of surprise, Hinata’s face was brought slapping against Tayuya’s hips, the full monstrous length of her rod sheathed in her gullet. Twelve inches of flesh had been forced into her in a single second. It hadn’t even hurt. Hinata’s expression of shock was frozen on her face for a moment as Tayuya moaned with delight, her pole pulsing deep inside the helpless girl she had every intention of enjoying for the foreseeable future.

A loud and extremely wet “glurch” sound, Tayuya pulled Hinata’s bright red face back until her stretched lips were massaging the base of her plump pink head. She took a moment to giggle at Hinata’s expression, her face bright red and her lavender eyes wide and unfocussed, before grabbing her by the ears and beginning to tug her up and down her inhuman shaft. Soon, what little sanity was left glinting in her eyes was well and truly shattered.

As Tayuya sank herself deep into the delightfully warm, wet hole that was Hinata’s mouth, she couldn’t help but grin up at the forest canopy. It had been so long since she’d last been able to drain her balls into a submissive slut. Prison hadn’t exactly been full of good-looking women for her to play with, she’d had to make do with a lot of unpleasant characters over the years. Hinata, on the other hand, was divine. The softness of her lips as they caressed her shaft, the hot wetness of her tongue as it mindlessly coiled around her, the delicious trembling of her throat as it squeezed her... Tayuya wasn’t sure she was going to be able to abandon the cute little cocksocket in the forest like she’d planned.

Whilst Tayuya was having the time of her life, savouring every little sensation as she skull-fucked her new plaything, Hinata was barely conscious at all. Humiliation, arousal, shame, submission, and of course lack of air, had all but erased any ability to think beyond the most primitive thoughts. For example, she thought at one point that it was really impressive her throat was able of containing Tayuya’s cock at all. After a while the realisation that the immense pole actually tasted delicious passed through what was left of her grey matter. A little after five minutes since Tayuya had first sheathed herself in her gullet, Hinata realised that at some point Tayuya was going to cum. She then realised that she was desperately eager for this to happen.

“Fuck, this throat is amazing.” Tayuya mewed, biting her lip and clumsily tugging her shirt aside. If Hinata heard, she didn’t show it, far too busy forcing herself back down to the neat patch of chestnut hair that crowned Tayuya’s pole.

Slowly, the red-haired girl released Hinata’s ears and laughed as she saw the girl continue to slide her distended lips up and down her shaft obliviously. She took the opportunity to strip off herself, pinching a rosy nipple as her other hand returned to toying with Hinata’s hair. She had to admit she was a little jealous of the skull-fucked girl beneath her, her own body was slim and boyish, her breasts little more than slight bumps on her chest, whereas Hinata’s fat tits were bouncing and jiggling delightfully with every eager jerk of the girl’s face.

Tayuya’s orgasm came faster than she’d expected, catching both her and Hinata off guard. The pale, broken girl twitched as Tayuya exploded inside her, her entire length stiffening before spewing gallons of sperm deep into her guts. The sound alone was enough to convey just how debased Hinata had become, a deep, guttural pumping sound of thick liquid being swallowed. Hinata’s eyes crossed at the first taste, a jet of her arousal spraying from her sopping pussy. Her body, already conquered, began to swell from the sheer volume of sperm being drained into her. Hinata’s arms went limp and her eyes rolled back in her skull as her belly grew fat and round until she looked as if she were months pregnant. With a truly pitiful mew, Hinata began to leak thick white spunk from her nose and lips.

“Fuck!” Tayuya growled, yanking Hinata away and stumbling back, utterly exhausted. Hinata fell, her cum-stuffed belly jiggling as she landed on it, and spewed another mouthful of spunk onto the floor. The sight was enough to coax one last spurt of sperm from Tayuya, landing with a satisfying splat over Hinata’s glassy purple eyes, gluing them shut and making her moan vaguely.

There was no way Tayuya was going to give up a throat like that, certainly not when it belonged to a woman with a rack that fine and other holes that needed exploring.

An hour later, two figures made their way through the forest. One was a girl, red haired and tomboyish, she looked pleased with herself and walked with a cocky swagger. The other at first appeared to be a very pregnant woman, until she coughed up a torrent of sperm that went oozing over her naked chest, revealing she was simply a young girl very, very full of cum. The redhead laughed and yanked on the rope tied around her neck, leading her on and ignoring her as she moaned and left a thick trail of cum behind them.

Girl's Night Chapter Two.

After their adventure with the Perisites, The Doctor and Yaz become addicted to being whores for futa cocks and decide to pay a visit to the Amazons.

-o-o-o-

“Doctor?”

Yaz frowned, stepping into the Tardis Console room and not seeing The Doctor anywhere. Pipes and wires and tools were scattered about the floor and the immense crystalline pillars, usually lit with orange light, were dim. “Doctor? You in here?”

There was a clatter and a muffled curse. Yaz pursed her lips and walked around the console, seeing two legs poking out from underneath it. “Doctor?”

“Yeah, I’m here, gimme a sec.” The Doctor murmured. There was a small explosion and sparks shot out of the console. She appeared up from under the mass of machinery and glowing crystal, a pair of thick welding goggles strapped over her face. Yaz smiled slightly, seeing the soot and grime smeared over her nose. “What is it?”

“Ryan and Graham are gone again?” Yaz asked, glancing at the door.

“Yup, I can drop you off too if you like. Family visit or something?”

“No… I… I like staying here. Home is… it’s not what I need right now.”

The Doctor stood up and brushed her sleeves down, there was a wary edge to her smile and soot on her nose. She leant against the console and pouted. “I’m… so sorry about what happened. It was all my fault; I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s… it’s not that.” Yaz sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “Not… exactly.”

“Are you pregnant?”

Yaz nodded mutely and stroked a palm over her belly. The Doctor grimaced and folded her arms uncomfortably, “Me too… never been pregnant before. I mean… I had kids, long time ago but I was a bloke back then.” She ran a hand through her hair and let out a quiet huff. “Only just got into this body, I’m still not used to it… and it’s not like I can talk to anyone about how this is supposed to work. There aren’t really Time Lords all over the place”

“I can’t exactly tell my parents I’m a teenage mom with and alien baby growing in me either.” Yaz said. “I guess we’re in the same boat.” The Doctor smiled and pulled off her goggles, wiping her brow. Yaz’s heart fluttered and she swallowed. “There’s something else.”

“Hmm? What?”

“I… kinda liked what the Perisites did. I’ve never felt like that before and… it was incredible.” Yaz admitted quietly. “Now there’s this ache inside me for more, and I don’t even know if I want to resist. Have you…?”

“I feel it too.” The Doctor smiled, cheeks flushing a little. “I’ve had a fair amount of sex in my time, but I’ve never felt something like that before… it was kind of amazing.”

“So… what do we do?”

“I… I was going to visit some people.” The Doctor blushed, “A few… similar groups. Experiment with this new body a little.” Yaz grinned and stepped up to the console. She bit her lip and threw a seductive look at The Doctor. The Blonde’s cheeks darkened all the more. “Don’t suppose you’d like to tag along?”

“Ladies night?”

The Doctor grinned and yanked the lever that sent the Tardis wheezing and groaning and tumbling into the vortex.

“Ladies night.”

-o-o-o-

“You come at an… inopportune time, Doctor.” A low, gravelly voice sighed as both The Doctor and Yaz’ blindfolds were tugged off their faces. The woman speaking was tall and tan, her long black hair tied back in an elaborate braid behind her head. She was young, maybe only a few years older than Yaz, but was considerably more intimidating. They were kneeling on dusty, hard-baked earth inside a curtained pavilion, a small cot and a lot of weapons were lying around beside the throne the Amazon was resting in.

“Of three dozen Amazons who came to do battle at troy, only eleven of us remain, and our beloved queen Penthesilea… my mother, is dead.” The woman said mournfully. “I fear there will be no future for my people, even if we reunite with my aunt Hippolyta. There will be little in the way of hospitality for you, honoured guest or not.”

Yaz glanced to the side where The Doctor was kneeling, smiling sympathetically. “I know.” She said, “I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The younger woman bowed her head, taking a second to compose herself before straightening up and planting her hands on her hips. “My mother spoke highly of you, and… I will observe the ancient traditions. Any woman in need may find shelter with the Amazons, you may stay… I will arrange a bed for you and… I apologise, I have been a poor host, who are you?”

She turned to Yaz who glanced at The Doctor before swallowing. “I… I’m Yaz… Yasmin khan.”

“You are The Doctor’s… slave?” The Queen asked. “Concubine?”

“We’re just friends.” The Doctor said quickly, “and we didn’t come for shelter… we came to offer our service.”

“Service?” The Queen laughed quietly, a small smile coming to her face. “Ah… well you have my thanks Doctor, for one thing, it has been long since I last laughed.”

“Happy to help.” The Doctor smiled.

The Queen eyed her for a moment before frowning. “You’re sincere.” She murmured, eyes flitting over them. “But you are no warrior… what service could you provide me?”

The Doctor smiled and got to her feet, rolling her palms over her belly before tugging her shirt up and letting her plump, pale breasts swing free.

The queen blushed, glanced at Yaz and then smiled.

“I see.”

-o-o-o-

Yaz mewed and pushed her face against The Doctor’s cheek, kissing her skin before tugging the queen’s cock away and wrapping her lips around it. The Doctor whined jealously and pressed tight against her side, her head pushing down beneath the queen’s pole as Yaz gurgled happily on its end. The Queen’s breath hitched as The Doctor’s lips enveloped one of her balls, giggling through her nose as bathing it with her tongue.

“Ha… D… Doctor… you have such spirit.” She mewed; one eye closed as her fingers raked through Yaz’s dark hair. “You would… make a good… Amazon.”

Yaz scowled, envy boiling in her gut at all the attention The Doctor was getting, and sank herself down another inch, her throat spasming and struggling to contain the Queen’s pulsing shaft. Her teeth pressed down with just enough force to hurt and the queen yelped, her grip on Yaz’s scalp tightening. “Ah! Teeth!” She caught sight of the greedy, jealous glint in Yaz’s eyes and forced a smile. “Haha… yes, and of course you are… quite talented as well miss Khan.”

Yaz sighed, she’d hoped for more, but she supposed there was plenty of time. Her lips sealed tight around her rod and her tongue began to coil around it, milking it hungrily into her tight wet gullet. The Doctor surfaced for breath and giggled, standing up and pushing her chest against the queen’s face. “You like these tits, your majesty?” she cooed, grinning maniacally as the young queen’s tongue bathed her nipples. “They’re brand new, why don’t you put them through their paces?”

“The gods… work in strange ways.” The Queen breathed, caressing The Doctor’s throat with a strong, calloused hand. “Is this Aphrodite’s way of a condolence? That her war took my mother?”

“Maybe.” The Doctor shrugged, biting her lip as the queen’s hand moved down to grab at a fat tit, squishing her sensitive flesh. “Or maybe we’re just sluts for big fat girlcocks.” She kissed the Queen and ducked down again, rolling her body against the queen’s leg as Yaz continued to throat her. “Did I use that right? Never called anyone a slut before, certainly not myself.” She asked quietly.

“Yeah… you… used it just right.” Yaz panted, letting out a wet gurgle as she slowly pulled her head back and licked her lips. She grinned and forced a wet, sloppy kiss onto The Doctor’s lips. “You fucking slut.”

“My turn.” The Doctor giggled, locking her lips over the queen’s shaft and dragging her way up the slippery pole. She hummed happily as Yaz’s hands laced behind her head, and then let out an undignified “Ghlurck” as she pushed down with all her force and stuffed every inch of the Queen’s cockmeat into her throat.

The Doctor’s eyes crossed with delight, her cunt pulsing and oozing her nectar through her pants as she squatted. The queen was no Perisite, but she was larger than The Doctor had ever been. She tasted different as well, hygiene wasn’t the best in ancient Greece, but the perfumed oils the amazons bathed themselves with made the natural, salty musk of the Queen’s skin oddly intoxicating. A few bubbles of spit appeared around her lips as she pondered the taste, eyes hazy and unfocussed.

Yaz was biting her lip, using her hands to force The Doctor’s blonde-haired head up and down the queen’s pole, basking in the wet gagging and spluttering her friend made as she was throatfucked. She was giddy, though whether that was because of the real-life amazons or the taste of another fat futa cock still lingering on her tongue she wasn't certain. She purred and stroked The Doctor’s hair, watching her engulf the queen’s cock like a seasoned professional. 

“Ah… Gods above. I am close!” The queen rasped. Yaz grinned and tried to tug The Doctor back so they could share in the reward, but the greedy cockslurping time-lord batted her away and mewed, sinking herself to the base on the Queen’s rod, drooling onto her crotch.

Time slowed as Yaz heard the queen’s howl of ecstasy and saw The Doctor twitch, her eyes rolling back in her head. She couldn’t believe The Doctor could be so selfish! She saw the blonde’s whole body quiver as cum began to jet directly into her stomach and seethed.

It was only the spray of The Doctor’s cum that brought her out of her sulking, the crotch of the blonde’s pants, already dark and damp, becoming soaked as she squirted with enough force to pass clean through her clothes and spatter the dusty ground.

For her part, The Doctor simply gurgled and caressed her belly as the queen pumped rope after rope of searing-hot spunk into her gut, only to squeak and then moan with joy as Yaz made her move. Quick brown fingers sank into the fleshy mass of her rear and clenched, tearing the seat of her pants clean off and leaving her ass hanging out. The pain and surprise were immediately forgotten as Yaz’s face mashed into the sopping, sticky mess between her legs.

Yaz had never eaten cunt before, unless you counted just days earlier when she had thoroughly cleaned The Doctor’s petals of Perisite sperm. It was wetter than she’d expected, and warmer, and sweeter. The Doctor’s arousal spread over her cheeks as she devoured her, her tongue lapping up and down, flicking at the time-lord’s pearl and pressing as deep into her insides as it would go. Soon the wet pumping sound of the queen’s orgasm died down, and the wet slurping of Yaz’s ravenous pussylicking replaced it.

“Oh… oh Yazzie.” The Doctor whimpered, spilling cum onto her chest as she panted and moaned. “Oh, that’s wonderful! Oh yes! Don’t stoooop!”

“You… fucking… filthy whore.” Yaz growled, tearing herself away from The Doctor’s opening but keeping her trapped on the ground with her arms around her legs. “You greedy cow! I wanted that delicious Amazon cum!”

“I’m sorry Yaz.” The Doctor whined, eyes crossing as she wiggled desperately back, begging for more. “I’m such a greedy cow, I’m sorry I didn’t let you slurp up all that yummy cum.”

Yaz panted and turned her attention up to the bewildered queen, her grip on The Doctor’s fat white ass tightening. “Your majesty… please… fuck my holes whilst I punish my slut friend.” The queen blinked and cleared her throat.

“Miss Khan… I am sorely tempted, but I am truly spent. Give me time to rest and I will gladly oblige.” She sighed.

“Call your warriors then, I’ll be their whore.” Yaz groaned, “Your whole tribe, you can all fuck me stupid whilst I make this cow pay!”

“Make me payyyy.” The Doctor whined. “My pussy is on fire!

The queen swallowed, looking at the sordid scene in front of her, and cleared her throat. “Guards!?”

In an instant two tall, muscular Amazons were standing at the entrance to the pavilion, spears in hand. They both blushed and stood to attention under their tunics as they saw the two women wrestling on the floor before their queen. “Fetch our sisters, all those not injured, these…” The queen paused, clearly not thinking ‘women’ was an appropriate description of the beasts fucking on the floor before her. “Whores, will tend to their needs.”

“At once, Queen Antianeira.” One of the amazons stammered, quickly vanishing back through the curtains

Not five minutes later Yaz was being rocked by urgent, hungry thrusts as an unseen Amazon helped herself to her snatch. A half-dozen others were standing over them, waiting their turn to plough this cute, brown-skinned newcomer’s pussy. The Doctor was cooing and moaning as Yaz continued to greedily explore her cunt, using the thrusts of the Amazon behind her to push deep into the blonde’s sopping folds.

Yaz didn’t know what had come over her. Being used by the perisites was one thing, it hadn’t exactly been consensual, not really, and sucking the queen’s cock had been fun, but nothing too radical, what was happening now was a completely different story. She didn’t even care enough to look back and see the faces of the women fucking her like a cheap hole, not even as the first blew her load deep in her pregnant womb and left, making room for the next.

All she cared about was hearing The Doctor’s squeaks and mews of delight, tasting her cum on her tongue, smelling her arousal as it was smeared everywhere. She groaned as she was penetrated again, and placed a kiss on The Doctor’s ass, her fingers replacing her tongue and pumping into the blonde’s messy cunt.

Load after load, rope after rope, Yaz’s womb was blasted with spunk virile enough to breed her thirty times over. It was just a shame her body was already too busy building a litter of tiny pink-skinned futas to cater to the trillions of amazon sperms desperately wishing for the same reception. It wasn’t long before the queen was back at full mast, along with some of the Amazons that had shot their loads into Yaz first. 

The Doctor noticed what was coming first, the delight in her face as she tipped her head back unmistakable. Yaz shouted indignantly and straightened up just in time to catch the majority of the cum that came raining down onto the depraved pair. Semen coated every inch of soft brown skin Yaz provided, but The Doctor managed to catch a fair share in her open mouth. Yaz scowled and grabbed The Doctor, turning her head and forcing a kiss onto her.

The time-lord whined as Yaz’s tongue invaded her mouth, mercilessly collecting every thick drop of Amazonian sperm she’d managed to steal away for herself. She whimpered and whined, but didn’t resist, letting Yaz devour it all.

“Mlah.” The Doctor gasped as the kiss broke, tongue oozing the very last cum onto her heaving chest. “Y… Yazzie.”

“That cum was mine.” Yaz growled a victorious grin on her lips.

“But I wanted it.” The Doctor pouted.

“Hmmm, too bad.” Yaz replied, sticking out her tongue. The Doctor sighed and fell onto her side, stroking a hand between her legs and petting herself lazily. Yaz licked her lips and looked up at the assorted amazons, fingers scooping up all the cum they had plastered her slim, svelte body with and bringing it to her mouth. “Th… thank you.”

“Um… You’re welcome.” One of the Amazons blushed.

“That will be all, sisters.” Antianeira sighed, lowering herself heavily onto her cot. “I think… we’ve all had enough pleasure for one evening.”

The amazons obeyed their queen and filed out of the tent, some pausing to thank Yaz and The Doctor, others talking to one another more cheerfully than they had in days. Yaz knelt in the dirt and greedily swallowed all the sperm she could before resting herself over The Doctor’s curvy, sweat-licked body. “Ha… I love ladies night.”

“Me too.” The blonde hummed happily.

“Come… friends, there is space for you both.” Antianeira called sleepily from the cot. “Let it not be said that I am an ungracious queen.”

“Hmmm, cuddles.” The Doctor smiled, tumbling down onto the rough mattress and purring to herself as Yaz and the queen squeezed her on either side, the three of them falling into a deep, sticky, cum-licked sleep.

(Commission) The Handmaiden's Tale.

Handmaiden. Maiden. The other one is Maid. It's also depressing as fuck whereas this is... not.

Anyway...

KOTOR2! Brianna the handmaiden begins to fantasise about her friend the Jedi Exile. After an intimate sparring match, Brianna has the most intense wet-dream of her life, with her and her beloved mated and married.

-o-o-o-

A long, slow, breath passed Brianna’s lips as she sat and meditated. It was a daily ritual, one she was happy to observe, despite the cold metal floor of the cargo hold. It had been some weeks since she’d joined the crew of the Ebon Hawk, and yet she remained as isolated and lonely as ever. The crew The Exile had gathered were less cold to her than her sisters, but not by much, and so she stayed down in the cargo hold alone, continuing to train and meditate, all while gathering what she could on the only one to treat her with more than contempt in years.

She sighed, a hazy vision of The Exile swimming into her mind. He was a curious one, his aura soft and gentle, the strong presence of the light side giving him a calming affect whenever he was close. She was pleased he came down to see her every so often, relishing every opportunity to speak to him beyond when she was called upon for missions. For the first time in a long while, she thought she might just have made a friend.

A gentle shiver ran down her spine as she smiled, poring over his face in her mind, taking in every little detail she’d committed to memory. Those deep, dark eyes. Those sculpted features. The manly scruff on his chin.

She sighed again and then released a sharp squeak as the door behind her hissed open, leaping to her feet to see the man she’d just been admiring in her mind.

“Exile… I was not expecting you.”

“I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“Not at all!” she said, perhaps a little too quickly. She was certain her pale cheeks were flushed and swallowed flashing a weak smile. “How may I help?”

“I’ve been watching you fight since you came aboard.” The Exile said slowly, scratching his chin. “Your style is unlike anything I was taught in the order; I was wondering if you would be willing to teach me?”

Brianna’s cheeks were definitely red now. She may only have been half Echani, but she was well aware of how important duelling The Exile would be. Combat was such an intimate act, and here, alone together… it would have made a good spot to begin a courtship.

Not that he knew that.

He just wanted to learn.

She cleared her throat and bowed her head. “I would be… honoured.” The words came out a little breathier than she would have liked, with her cheeks burning and such a tone of voice she must have seemed so needy, but The Exile didn’t seem to notice. He smiled and listened intently as she explained the etiquette of a duel, until she slipped her cloak from her shoulders.

“Er… what are you doing?” he said cautiously as she unbound her robes, fingers quickly dancing over the soft white fabric and preparing to shed it as well.

“A duel like this is no place for modesty.” She smiled. “My people fight nude, or nearly so. Every blow and every movement clean and pure, no bulky armour or padding to interfere.” She paused and glanced over him. “Will this be a problem?”

“No… I suppose not.”

Outwardly, her only reply was a simple smile, inwardly, her body was screaming with excitement. She turned and slipped her robes slowly off her shoulders, drawing them lower and lower down her back, biting her lip as she felt The Exile’s eyes move over her skin as it was uncovered. Her hips began to sway slightly as the fabric lowered over the generous swell of her rear, each plump, pale cheek framed above the robe before she released it and sent it fluttering to the ground.

And then that was it. She stood in the cargo hold in only her boots and underwear, her breasts heaving with excitement in her bra, her nethers pulsing in the simple black thong that covered so little of her ass.

She turned back and forced back a grin as she saw The Exile was now the one blushing, his eyes drinking in her curves. The warrior in her wondered if he was analysing her, seeing her strengths and weaknesses as a fellow combatant. The woman in her wondered if he found her pleasing, if her ample bust and wide, welcoming hips enticed him, made him think that she would be a fine mate, and mother to his children.

She watched eagerly as he began to strip, carefully placing each article of clothing on the floor until he too was standing in only his underwear and boots. Her heart fluttered as he stooped down, eyes staring in awe at his toned, muscular body. She had thought he was beautiful before, now she could only think he was magnificent.

Her blush had become almost burningly intense, her cheeks tingling as saliva built under her tongue. between her legs her womanhood was hot and sopping wet, aching for him to come closer. She imagined those strong arms taking her, pulling her tight against his muscular chest, exploring her body with those hands, and then taking her with whatever was straining against the front of his underwear. By the force, the bulge was the size of her fist, what would it look like when let free? How long would it be?

The Exile cleared his throat and she glanced up, suddenly aware of just how intently she had been staring. She coughed nervously and shifted into a battle-stance, eager to distract him and wondering what had come over her.

She put the thought out of her mind and attacked.

-o-o-o-

“You did very well.” she smiled, breaths coming hard and fast as at last they broke apart. “The Echani styles are not easy to learn, for a first bout you were impressive.”

“I didn’t feel very impressive when you had me on the floor.” The Exile smiled weakly, rubbing his bruised arm.

“I have trained to fight since girlhood, Exile.” Brianna smirked, “You will not best me any time soon. But I would be happy continue your training, if you remain interested?”

“Absolutely.” The Exile nodded, wincing. “I still have to beat you, and I want to learn those advanced styles you were using too.”

“All in good time, Exile.” Brianna said softly, watching as he bent to pick up his clothes. She nibbled her lip, admiring the swell of his rear for a moment. She waited for him to stand back up before moving to get her robes, making absolutely sure his eyes were on her as she bent over, thrusting the delicious peach of her rear out for his viewing as she scooped up the soft white fabric. Fighting the odd urge to giggle, she dressed, making sure to show off her curves as much as possible until at last her little show ended, her robes tight against her body once again.

She bid The Exile luck as he left and then groaned, rubbing her hands between her legs. She was soaking wet; her entire body was vibrating with arousal. She bit back a moan and hastily brought her hands away, scolding herself internally for acting like such a slut. What had she been thinking? Showing off her body, flirting like some gutter whore, wishing he’d do such despicable things to her poor, helpless body?

She shuddered and hugged her middle nervously, hurrying away to the showers. Her resolve had held, that was a small blessing, but would it the next time they trained, or the next? How often was she going to see him near-nude and dappled with sweat? Those strong tan muscles straining to knock her down, to best her in combat and then mate with her?

She hissed as icy water rained down on her, resting her head on the shower wall. He didn’t want her as a mate, he was just being friendly. Besides, he was older than her by almost a decade and he was a Jedi, albeit an exile, and she was… spying on him. She felt a pang of remorse and scowled. It wasn’t fair, all her life she’d wished for this kind of connection, but now it was blossoming with someone she could never truly be with. She scowled miserably and rinsed out her hair, a good long sleep would put her mind at ease and purge all the lewd thoughts crashing through her mind.

-o-o-o-

“Ha!” Brianna shouted, bringing the glowing blue blade of her lightsaber down towards The Exile. He saw the light just in time, and rolled to one side, kicking at her knee. She hissed as her leg buckled, twisting and easily dodging his next strike, her mix of Echani and Jedi training sublime. Even The Exile looked impressed, at least until her blade came swinging down towards him again.

He caught her hand in his, the blade burning between them. Brianna purred and bit her lip, admiring his naked chest as it was lit up blue, the light catching the droplets of sweat he’d acquired over the past hour of brutal, endless combat.

“You’ve improved.” She said breathlessly, pushing the blade towards him. “But not enough.”

He grunted and pushed back, keeping the blazing lightsaber in place between them. “You should have more faith in me, apprentice.”

“Don’t fear, master.” Brianna cooed, “I’ll not hurt you too badly, just enough to mark you as mine.”

He laughed and suddenly moved, darting back and making her topple forwards. She turned the fall into an awkward roll and turned just in time for him to land on top of her, pinning her arms to the floor and trapping her body beneath his. She groaned and tried to wriggle free, earning a low growl from her master.

He looked magnificent snarling down at her, using all his strength to defeat her, push her down into the floor like a helpless damsel. She moaned and accepted her loss, switching her lightsaber off and letting it roll from her hand. “You… have conquered me, Husband.” She managed to croon in a low, husky voice.

“You were easily conquered, wife.” He breathed, face just inches from hers. Gods she could feel his manhood between her thighs, pulsing, hungry to taste her. she was sopping and ready for him, her nipples like diamonds and her head clouded by singular need.

“H…ha… mate with me then you bastard!” she croaked. “Make me your mate, not just your wife, not just your apprentice!” He grinned victoriously and trapped her in a hungry, feral kiss that took her breath away, leaving her panting and whimpering on the floor as he stood. “Be my mate… master… I beg you.”

“I will.”

She almost sobbed with lust and rolled onto her front, pushing herself up on her knees and quickly tossing aside her bra, letting the plump orbs of her tits fall free. Her underwear went next, a miniscule thong that she tore from her body and threw aside. And then her boots, one by one, until she was naked and quivering, ready to be fucked for the first time in her life. The battle was done, she was defeated, and she would be his for the rest of her life. All that was left to do was to consummate the mating.

He was immense and hard, underwear stretching in a valiant effort to contain his cock’s hunger. She moaned and moved close, hands pawing at his thighs, face inching closer to the immense bulge between his legs. A soft whimper escaped her as she pressed her lips to the straining fabric, kissing up and down the pulsing mass of his cock even as it sat in his boxers. “Mmm, I have waited so long for this, my master.” She whispered, drinking in his musk and ducking down to kiss and nuzzle her face against where she guessed his heavy, churning balls were resting.

“So have I, Brianna.” He smiled, love and lust equal in his tone. Her heart raced and she mewed, taking him by the hips and tugging on him to turn around. He frowned, but obeyed, turning away from her and letting out a surprised gasp as she nestled her face between his cheeks. “Ah, what are you doing?”

“Pleasing you, my master… because I love you” She replied simply, yanking his underwear down and admiring his rump. He really did have a cute butt, and she giggled quietly to herself as she nuzzled her face against it, her nose finding his pucker and taking in a deep breath. “You are so beautiful from this angle.” She grinned, admiring his twitching cock and heavy balls through the gap in his thighs.

He let out a quiet groan as her tongue wriggled into him, her strong, dainty hands petting his hips as she set to work. It was almost cute, and Brianna might have paused to tease her beloved husband, but she was far to ravenously desperate to feast on his asshole. Her tongue swirled around inside him more times than she could count, his groans and soft gasps of pleasure mixing with the wet slurping of her tongue as she abandoned her shame and rimmed her master for all she was worth.

“Hah… Master.” She managed, pulling away at last. “Turn back to me.”

“You’re… doing a lot of commanding, Apprentice.” He growled weakly, obeying nonetheless. His scowl was made less convincing by how red his cheeks were and how aroused his moans had been.

“I’m sorry, Master.” Brianna smiled sweetly, placing a chaste kiss on the throbbing head of his magnificent pole. “Let me make it up to you.” Her fingers slipped into him at the same time her lips sealed over his head, she didn’t know which stimuli made him moan louder, honestly she didn’t much care either. His cock was fat and heavy against her tongue as she began to worship it, it’s taste thick and savoury and delicious. She moaned and flexed her fingers, opening her jaw a little wider to sink herself further along his shaft.

The wet slurping of her mouth filled the room, her spit creating a thin sheen over his pole as she lathered it top to bottom with her tongue. every time she tore herself away to gasp for breath, she would duck beneath him and suckle on the balls she knew were coming closer and closer to giving her what she craved. They were fat and full and heavy, filling her mouth as she sucked on them, making them just as wet and messy as all of his crotch now was. And all the while her fingers worked him, keeping him painfully hard and coaxing growling moans from his throat.

She felt him cumming before she tasted his seed, each fat, heavy orb cradled in her palms tightening. She gurgled excitedly and sealed her mouth over his head, desperate to devour every last drop of his spunk. His first rope of steaming cum blasted her and she almost came on the spot, pussy gushing between her legs as jet after jet shot into her mouth, filling her up and drowning her tongue in its thick, virile, salty taste. She groaned and moved her tongue through the thick mixture, her fingers probing him and coaxing one last spatter of spunk onto her tongue before she pulled away, smiling widely up to him with the immense load still in her mouth.

Her master was still recovering, so she took initiative, gently pushing him down and slipping her thighs around his waist. He growled and gripped her hips with one hand, the other taking her by the scalp. She moaned and opened her mouth, showing off how much spunk he’d blasted into her before swallowing it and quivering with delight. “Master… you’re so delicious, look, I guzzled it all down.” She showed off her tongue, earning an impressed smirk from her master.

His grip moved to cradle her cheek, tugging her close as she sank down, spearing the sopping mess of her cunt on his length. She practically howled with delight, before her master caught her in a deep, passionate kiss. She mewed into his mouth, hands clinging to his shoulders as she began to bounce herself, the perfect globes of her asscheeks clapping as they slapped against her master’s hips. God he was so big inside her, stretching her sopping petals further than they had ever been before. She could feel his head pushing urgently at her deepest spots, pressing as hard as it could so he could blast her womb full and breed her.

“Hah…” Brianna managed, tongue lolling as the kiss broke, a thin strand of spit connecting her to her master as she rocked her hips up and down onto his pole. “Master… more...”

“Happily.” The Exile growled, hands smacking against her rear and digging into the welcoming pads of flesh. Brianna moaned and arched her back, moving with her master’s hands as he pulled her up and brought her crashing back down. Her breasts danced with every feral thrust, her eyes squeezed shut and her grip on him was shook loose.

“Master!” she squeaked. “I’m close… I’m so close, my husband… my love… I’m cumming!”

Her howl of delight echoed through the ship as her whole body lit up with sensation, her back arched and every delicious curve trembling as she sprayed her arousal onto his rod, only adding to the wet, sticky mess slathered over their joining.

His hand petted her hair as she fell against him, mewing like a kitten as he continued to push into her cunt. “Master… breed me… give me your children, I beg you.”

“You want to be a mother?” he asked softly, tracing a hand down her spine to her rear and patting it hungrily.

“More than anything, my love.” She nodded, eyes wide and pleading. “I want your children inside my belly, I want to be yours forever. Your mate, your wife, your apprentice.”

“You won’t always be an apprentice, Brianna.” He smiled, almost kindly. “But as for the other two… I think I can oblige.”

She groaned as his fingers dug into her flesh, gripping her hard enough to hurt before he moaned, cock pulsing, and blew his load into her waiting cunt. They cried out together, him beneath her, keeping her tight against him, his cock buried inside her and spewing cum, her trembling and panting with delight, praying to every god that she’d be pregnant by the night’s end.

It was far from the end of their lovemaking for the night, and far from the last potent, steaming load of sperm Brianna would greedily inhale. It was in the small hours of the morning that Brianna’s stamina finally betrayed her.

“Haa… ha…. Master.” She croaked, breathless and panting as she lay on her side. Sweat and semen oozed from her body, her face was bright red, her legs had turned to jelly and were now lying quite uselessly on the floor as her beloved master finished inside her again and pulled out, a river of white slipping from her aching hole.

“What is it, Brianna?” he asked.

“Don’t stop.”

He smiled and caressed a hip for a moment before taking her and shifting her body like she was a ragdoll. She cupped her belly as he moved her, pressing a palm flat to the taut muscles of her abdomen and imagining herself fat and pregnant with his children.

She was broken out of her thoughts as his cock pressed against her ass, slipping inside her tight, hot hole and drawing a low crooning groan from her lips. “Tell me if it’s too much.” He breathed into her ear, pushing deeper inside. Brianna couldn’t have done so even if she wanted, her lashes fluttering and her tongue lolling onto the floor as her body was filled with new pleasure.

His thrusts were gentle at first, dragging his cock in and out of her pucker with infuriating slowness. It was only when he was certain Brianna could take it that he began to fuck her in earnest, and soon Brianna’s delighted howls were bouncing off the walls of the cargo hold. His grip on her hips was tight, his breath was hot against the back of her neck, Brianna could feel every sensation, every touch and scent and sound amplified. She was being swallowed by the stimuli, her mind crying out as it was assaulted and her soul singing as she was enveloped in her master’s aura. 

A quiet giggle escaped her lips as he shot his cum deep into her guts, the wonderful warmth coursing through her body as she came again, her cunt pulsing and spraying a jet of her arousal onto the floor to join the growing puddle. Her love remained lodged inside her for a few blissful moments before he slipped out and pressed against her back. She was dully aware of his lips at her neck and his hands around her waist before she lay her head down and sighed sleepily.

-o-o-o-

“Nyah!” Brianna squealed, her back arching and her pussy shooting a thick stream of her quim onto her mattress. She blinked in confusion, body still thrumming with arousal, and moaned, hands instinctively moving to cup her pulsing sex.

She was soaked, her underwear as wet as if she’d been underwater, and it wasn’t the only thing. Her whole body was drenched with sweat and with her own arousal, her undershirt sticking to her heaving chest as she groaned and rolled onto one side.

She had just cum, her virgin body experiencing it’s very first orgasm in her sleep as she dreamed of being fucked and bred by her only friend! Imagining him taking her, ravishing her, forcing his delicious cock down her throat and into her greedy cunt and up her asshole, fucking and breeding and smearing her with spunk. Forcing her to devour his sperm… to rub it against her skin, to… to…

Shame and embarrassment crashed through her and she staggered out of her bed, trembling. Her legs were so weak, and her body was crying out for more. Images of the debauchery flashed in her mind and she shook her head in denial. It was wrong to even imagine such things! How could she be so aroused by them? Why was her body so hot, and her pussy so wet, and her nipples so hard? Why was her asshole winking as if begging to be penetrated again? She looked down at her bed and whimpered, wondering how many times she’d cum to soak it so completely.

Why was this happening to her? She was a virgin, she’d never so much as kissed someone before. Was this her Echani blood? Was this a sign of maturity, her body’s way of telling her she was ready to mate and breed?

She trembled and tried to regain her composure, dreading what would happen if The Exile or Visas or Kreia sensed her shame, or worse her arousal.

The shower had helped for a moment that night, it would do so again. “Fuck!” she squeaked, peeling off her panties, that simple sensation enough to draw another jet of quim from her sensitive lips. The cold water stung for a moment, finally shocking her out of whatever heat had overcome her. She sat in the shower, hugging herself and shivering. She couldn’t bear for whatever had happened to happen again, couldn’t imagine what she would do if someone saw her in such an embarrassing situation. What would he think of her?

But… he was the reason. He had put her into heat… had made her into a mewing, sopping mess without even meaning to. What would happen if he got closer to her, with each of their duels and missions becoming a dearer friend and a more ideal lover?

She shivered and hung her head. Whatever came next, it would be harder than anything she’d faced before.

Ho Ho Hos it's a Christmas poll

Tis' the season and all that, and what better way to celebrate than letting you lot choose a story to be written from the immense box of prompts sitting in my hard drive?

Reunion.

Jack pays a visit to the Normandy after the Reaper War, and winds up in Shepard's shower, submissive and helpless as the commander lovingly fucks her brains out.

-o-o-o-

Jack hadn’t been aboard the Normandy in almost a year, and she hadn’t realised just how much she’d missed it. The familiar hum of the engines, the quiet noises the interfaces made, even the disembodied, sultry voice of EDI all made her feel at ease despite herself. Of course most of her comfort was thanks to Shepard, who had stepped into their little routine as if it had been days, not months, since Jack had last snuck into her cabin for an evening of tenderness and submission.

“I missed doing this.” Shepard hummed, brushing her hands down over Jack’s ribs to her waist and then her hips. “It’s been too long.” Jack bit her lip and shifted, arms still crossed defiantly over her chest as the deliciously warm water rolled over her naked, trembling flesh. Shepard’s fingers pressed against her as they moved, gently massaging her soft, inked skin as she stood and smiled knowingly down at the back of the punk’s head.

“C… course you’d say that.” Jack muttered half-heartedly. “You take any chance you get to feel me up.”

“You came to me, Jackie.” Shepard breathed, the reminder sending a shiver down Jack’s spine. Her scowl deepened and she tried her best not to moan as Jane’s hands rolled over her slender shoulders. “I like your new haircut.”

“Th… thanks.” Came the whispered reply.

“And how are the kids?” Jane continued as casually as if they’d been sharing a drink, rather than being cuddled snugly together in her shower. Her hands stroked down Jack’s forearms and then came back up, dancing over her shoulders and up her throat to the smooth skin of her head. Jack whimpered as her fingers massaged her scalp, brushing against her ears and gently petting the little ponytail at the back of her skull.

“Fine.”

“That’s good to hear.”

Jack shuddered as cool, thick gel was poured over her head, Jane’s fingers beginning to lather it into her hair. She could feel Jane’s breath against her nape, her strong, toned belly brushing against her spine. Without thinking, Jack nibbled her lower lip and reached back, hands slipping around Shepard’s hips and tugging her tighter against her.

“Wh… What about you?” Jack managed to croak, shivering as Shepard’s fingers caressed her ribs, so very close to her breasts. “You’ve been… here?”

“The Normandy is my home.” Shepard sighed, smiling and guiding Jack’s head under the flow of the shower, rinsing the pale soapy bubbles from her hair. “And now I’m free to travel wherever I please.”

“D… don’t you get…” Jack began before groaning and shaking her head, trying to keep her mind away from Jane’s fingers as they made their way down her thighs. Shepard chuckled softly, kneeling behind her and stroking her calves.

“Don’t I get what?”

“L… Lonely.” Jack scowled, her frustration only getting worse as she felt Jane exhale, her breath brushing against one pale, tattooed cheek of her ass. “Out here all alone?”

“I’m not alone. I have EDI.” Shepard smiled, standing up and taking Jack’s hips again. “And I have friends that come to visit, like you.”

“So… the others come by?”

“Well, I go to them, of course.” Jane chuckled, moving Jack around and flashing a simple smile. She took a bottle and poured a thick pool of something pink into her palm. Jack hissed as she moved closer, pressing her palm against her belly and beginning to lather it into her skin. “I had tea with Miranda last week, and Kelly the week before that… let me think, before that Samara and I spent a long weekend together to celebrate her birthday. Don’t you see any of our old friends?”

“They’re your friends, not mine.” Jack scowled, gritting her teeth as Jane’s hand moved over her belly to her side, leaving her soapy and slippery and sending little rivulets of pinkish bubbles rolling down over her as the hot water continued to soak the both of them.

“Oh, Jackie. They’re just as much your friends as they are mine.” Jane sighed, “You shouldn’t put yourself down like that.”

“I’m not.” Jack growled weakly, her attempt at seeming fierce dying as soon as she saw Shepard’s kind smile. She ducked her head away and pouted down at herself, cheeks burning as Jane’s hands gently moved her arms up over her head, her fingers stroking over the full curve of her body from wrist to hip. “They’re… we’re not close. We just fought together.”

“If you wouldn’t push them away, that could change.” Shepard hummed softly, “I’m sure they’d love to be close to you, when they see who you are under all the attitude.” Her hands were beneath her arms now, moving up and down. She was so close. Her lips just an inch from Jack’s forehead, her round, full breasts almost brushing Jack’s nubile mounds. Jack whimpered, hating how easily Shepard demolished the walls she carefully built to protect herself.

“I don’t want to be their friend.” she muttered weakly. “I don’t care.”

“Of course not.” Shepard sighed. “But, if you do change your mind, Samara and I are meeting again in two weeks for our monthly bonding session, I’m sure she’d be happy for you to tag along.”

Jack glanced up, saw Jane smiling down at her, and immediately refocussed her attention on her own feet. She gasped despite herself as Jane began to lather her chest, fingers dancing over her little breasts and brushing against her nipples, each as hard as diamonds thanks to Shepard’s soft, almost motherly affections.

“Hmm, yes we’re getting to the fun part, don’t worry.” She chuckled as Jack whined. “I always forget how sweet you look when you’re like this.”

“I’m not like anything!” Jack complained, “And I’m not… sweet.”

“Mm hm.” Jane smiled, taking a step closer and pushing Jack’s back to the slick wall of the shower. She didn’t linger on the biotics tits, didn’t indulge in toying with the lovely little bumps, she didn’t need to, there would be plenty of time to enjoy them later. Instead she poured out a little more soap onto her palm and moved her attentions lower.

“Hah!” Jack squeaked as Jane’s palm clapped against her rear and began to knead the soft, fleshy pads with her usual methodical grace. The punk might have tried to move, if she really wanted to escape from Jane’s strong, thorough hands, or if there was anywhere to go other than into the warm embrace of her bust. But the warmth of the water and the soft, comforting tone in her only friend’s voice had completely melted her resistance.

She blushed and groaned as Jane’s hands rubbed over her cheeks, delving between them and briefly teasing the sensitive rosebud of her ass with a fingertip before moving on.

“Is this a new one?” Shepard asked, lips almost touching Jack’s as the biotic jumped and looked up at her. Her eyes moved to where Jane’s finger was resting against her and her cheeks darkened. It was a simple heart, entwined with rose-vines, the thorns drawn sharp and dangerous, but all pointing outwards as if to protect, not hurt the heart within.

“Y… yeah.”

“I like it.” Jane smiled. She reached up and took Jack’s cheek in one palm. “Would you like me to kiss you now, or has this been enough?”

Jack scowled, knowing full well Jane only asked so she would be forced to beg for her pleasure, but as always, her arousal and treacherous submissive streak overpowered her pride. She bit her lip and pushed against Shepard’s belly, her tiny breasts lost in the fat, slippery orbs of Shepard’s tits. “Kiss me… please?”

Shepard hummed fondly and drew her close with one hand, their lips meeting and mouths opening for a moment. Jack whimpered into the kiss, trembling as Shepard’s free hand took her by the waist and kept her pressed tight against her. she panted as Jane pulled away, mouth open and tongue out, pleading for more like a dog.

“You’re such a beautiful woman, Jackie.” Shepard smiled, pushing her back against the wall and making sure she stayed there by immediately closing the gap and trapping her. “I just wish you’d open up.”

“I…” Jack stammered as Jane’s lips began to toy with the skin of her throat, kissing up one of the thin black lines inked into her flesh. 

“I know.” She breathed, patting Jack’s hip as her dominant hand slipped between her thighs to spread her wide. “You’ve got scars, you closed off to protect yourself… but Cerberus is done, and there are people who care about you.”

“Shepard…”

Jane hushed her softly, smiling and pushing a kiss onto her lips. Jack quivered, hips pushing forwards against Jane’s thighs, clinging to her shoulders as the redhead pushed her palm flat against her sopping opening.

“It’s alright, the lecture’s over.” she chuckled, “Just lean back and enjoy, kay?”

“Yu… yes.” Jack nodded meekly, biting her lip as Jane’s palm began to rub at her slit. She whined, head tilting back as Jane toyed with her, helpless as Jane’s lips explored her throat and her hand pushing firmly against her cheek. She hadn’t been lacking in partners the past few years, always knowing how to enjoy herself, but what Shepard could do to her was uncanny, sapping away all her confusion and insecurity and making her into a blushing, mewing mess with little more than a few kind words and a gentle caress.

Shepard slipped inside her silently, sharp green eyes watching to catch Jack’s blissful expression. She smiled and wrapped her lips around one of Jack’s as the biotic moaned. She could feel how she trembled beneath her, every twitch and shiver as Jack melted against her. A tattooed thigh rose against her hip, Jack’s leg moving behind her and trying to tug her all the tighter against her body. Jane smiled and brought her free hand down to hold her, laughing as Jack jumped up and wrapped her arms around her waist.

“Careful, love.” Shepard growled. “I don’t want to slip.”

“Shut up and fuck me.” Jack rasped, hands clawing at Jane’s cheeks.

Shepard smiled and pushed her against the wall tight enough she could stop supporting her from underneath, her hands taking Jack by the throat and sinking deep into her again, cutting off her pleading immediately. Jack moaned and pressed her face against Jane’s shoulder, lips tight against slick freckled skin, only to be forced back as Jane’s grip on her neck tightened.

She bucked as much as she could against Jane’s fingers, panting as Shepard’s well-practiced digits worked her cunt. A particularly forceful curl of Jane’s fingers drew a hoarse moan from her lips, and then a lot of spluttering as the water splashed into her mouth. She scowled, embarrassed, and hid her face against Shepard’s shoulder, free now that Jane’s hand had moved to knead at her ass.

Jack was a mess, sopping wet and utterly helpless as she sat nestled in Jane’s arms. Shepard was as talented as ever, taking every ounce of strength from Jack’s body and turning her from a hardened ex-con mercenary into a trembling bundle of nerves. Moaning, her orgasm rolled through her, her mouth open and panting against Jane’s shoulder.

She dropped to the floor and groaned as Shepard stepped back, her legs were jelly, her cunt was on fire. She whimpered and petted herself, fingers dancing over the pulsing petals, wondering how much wetness was the shower and what was her.

“Let’s go to bed.” Jane hummed, caressing Jack’s cheek with a soft, gentle smile. Jack whined and tilted her head up again, blinking as the water rushed over her. Shepard looked so perfect standing there, towering over her like a goddamn statue. The perfect girl scout, nude and slick and slippery in the water. She reached out and Jack nuzzled against her palm on instinct, everything melting away, knowing she was safe in the arms of her hero.

Initiation

With the rift between her and her darling Savage healed, Clea takes her and her new pet Marigold to a royal banquet celebrating her success. Things go well, and a unique invitation is offered by a group of the country's most powerful women.

-o-o-o-

“Clea, Darling!” The Queen cried, grinning broadly as Clea stepped into the banquet hall, Savage on one arm, Marigold on the other. Clea laughed as The Queen embraced her, kissing her cheeks before admiring the girls at her sides. “My… aren’t you a sweet little thing!” she beamed, pinching Marigold’s cheek. “And Savage… You look simply magnificent!”

“Thank you, yer Majesty.” Savage blushed, curling some fiery hair around her finger. Marigold was still too busy giggling to herself to respond. Clea tutted and pinched each of their rears to bring them back under control.

“You look wonderful, Your Majesty.” She purred smoothly, bowing her head a little. “And this ball is magnificent. Though… I was expecting an intimate dinner.”

“Dearest, this is intimate.” The Queen chuckled, “Only my favourites have been invited. Come in, come in, you’ll catch a cold standing in the doorway.” Clea smiled and allowed herself to be led down a small flight of stairs and around the banquet table to a place just beside an ornate throne, clearly the Queen’s. “Who is your newest acquisition, darling?”

“Ah, this is Marigold.” Clea smiled, “Marigold say hello to Her Majesty.” She took Marigold’s shoulders and guided her up towards the queen, brushing some curly blonde hair out of her face.

“P… pleased to meet you.” Marigold said in a small voice.

“Well aren’t you precious.” The Queen purred, touching Marigold’s chin with a finger. Her eyes flashed downwards and a hungry glint flashed in her eyes. Marigold blushed and pushed her hips forwards a little. “And so big for a little thing, I might have to steal you away later.”

“She’s a touch inexperienced.” Clea warned.

“Oh, I’m sure she more than makes up for it with spirit.” The Queen chuckled, “In any case, that is a conversation for later. For now, do take your seats.” She smiled and swept away to greet her other guests, leaving Clea to sink heavily into her seat. Plump, soft cushions had been placed beside her chair, and Savage was grateful for the padding on her knees as she dropped down. Kneeling with her back straight, she could rest her chin on the table and see all of the Queen’s other guests. Marigold was not so fortunate, having no way to see over the table and resigning herself to staring at everyone’s knees for the evening.

“They’ve even given you your own bowls.” Clea smiled, looking down at the small metal dog-bowls resting by the cushions. She reached down and ran her fingers through Savage’s mane, her smile widening as Savage sighed and rested against her thigh. “Excited for royal dining, Marigold?”

“Yes mistress.” Marigold nodded eagerly, a small gurgling sound echoing from her belly. “Miss Allian never fed me more than scraps, and last night’s meal was so delicious. I can’t imagine how nice royal food will be!”

Clea laughed quietly and patted her head, sighing and shifting in her seat. One of the children kicked and she growled. “You nuisances are welcome to come out whenever you please.” She muttered, pressing a palm to her belly. “Stop complaining.”

“Mistress?” Savage asked, concern evident on her pretty young face. Clea rolled her eyes and stroked her.

“Just a kick, my darling.” She sighed. “The little brats are restless.”

“Not enough to come out though.” Savage smiled, resting her forehead against Clea’s stomach. “Any day now.”

“Hmmmf.” Clea sniffed. “And then begins the long, dull days of restoring myself to some semblance of elegance.”

“I think ye look radiant, mistress.” Savage blushed.

“Radiant?” Clea chuckled. “Now who was it that taught you that word?”

“I was… readin.” Savage admitted. “Ye left one of yer novels by the bed last week and I thought… now that Annie taught me how, I ought to read it.”

“Reading now, are we? Which novel? Did you enjoy it?”

Savage seemed surprised at her enthusiasm and flushed, toying with her thumbs. “It was… The Maiden’s Queen, mistress.”

“Ooh!” Clea grinned. “One of my favourites! What did you think?”

“I didn’t understand why the Amazon Queen let Luna stay in the palace.” Savage said thoughtfully. “She didn’t seem to like outsiders very much. But she let Luna stay right by her room and treated her like a friend right away.”

“Well she did find her quite enticing.” Clea purred.

Savage pursed her lips. “It seemed like the author just wanted to write them having sex but didn’t know how to make them come together properly.”

“Pah.” Clea said, waving a hand dismissively. “Love has blossomed under far more dubious circumstances. Besides, the romance between them was simply wonderful, wasn’t it?”

“I liked it.” Savage nodded. “But… well…”

Clea raised a brow. “What?”

“It seemed a bit like… you and me. But opposite.” Savage winced. “Is that why ye like it? Or… or did I misunderstand?”

“What do you mean it was like you and I?” Clea frowned. “The Amazon queen is nothing like me, she’s a warrior with a gentle heart. She’d do anything for Luna if she asked. I’m nowhere near so soft! And Luna? Luna’s so confident and utterly convinced she’s in control even as the queen makes her a pet! She services her like a slave every day, but she’s convinced that she’s somehow holding the reigns. It’s laughable! They’re not like… either of us.” She trailed of and scowled into the middle distance for a moment before turning back down to Savage, who was wearing an exceptionally nervous smile.

“M… maybe I misunderstood.” She said quietly.

“Hmm.”

There was an uncomfortable silence in their little corner of the great table for a while, all three women watching the queen and her guests mingling and drift to their seats. There were many faces Clea recognised, but none she counted amongst her friends. Ambrose was nowhere to be seen. Her seat was empty, and there was no cushion beside it. Clea sighed finally and hefted herself up, looking between her pets before sighing. “I am going to make introductions.” She declared. “Be good.”

“Yes mistress.” Marigold nodded.

“Of course mistress.” Savage smiled weakly.

Clea made her way around the table, letting out a low sigh of discomfort as she went. Marigold peered over the chair to Savage, who sighed and glanced over. “Yes?”

“You meant like you were the queen and mistress was Luna, right?” Marigold asked quietly.

“That’s what I thought.” Savage sighed, pouting. “Maybe I missed something.”

“Or maybe mistress didn’t realise why she liked it so much!” Marigold beamed. “Because it reminded her of you!” Savage snorted and rolled her eyes.

“Nonsense.”

“Oh, you were thinking the same!” Marigold giggled. “It makes perfect sense! Miss Allian always said you had conquered Mistress. And mistress really is just like that character! She thinks she’s in charge but really she wants you to take care of her! She wants to be yours!”

“Hush!” Savage hissed, cheeks burning. “Even if that were true… which it’s not, Mistress wouldn’t want everyone knowing! It would embarrass her!”

Marigold sighed and folded her arms. “You’ve no sense of romance.”

“It’s not my place to be romantic, it’s my place to be obedient.” Savage sniffed. “If mistress ever wanted me to… conquer her, I would happily oblige, but she won’t. So there.”

“Fine.”

“Good.”

Savage looked across the hall to where Clea was, standing and charming a group of curvaceous blondes who all had waifish young pets like Marigold on the edge of their leashes. She sighed dreamily and admired her mistress, the effortless beauty and grace she possessed even a full nine months pregnant. Her cock stirred as she remembered the night she’d put those babies into Clea, breeding her in a bout of lovemaking so passionate and intense Clea had been left bowlegged for days afterwards. The scowls Clara had shot her after having to scrub down the insides of the carriage, bathroom, library and bedroom had not been particularly fond, but Savage hadn’t minded, too delighted by the day-long session of breeding with her beloved mistress.

She suddenly realised that none of the girls present belonged to the Queen. Beast, or Christine, was nowhere to be seen, hadn’t the point of this dinner been to show her off? And where were the Queen’s other pets? Guinevere and Morgana were nowhere in the crowd, or any of the others Savage had seen over the past few weeks.

She pursed her lips and shuffled on her cushion, paying closer attention to the people Clea was speaking to.

-o-o-o-

Clea sighed and patted herself affectionately, watching as the cute little woman she’d been charming pattered away to talk to someone else. She was out of practice, but it was nice to be back in the public eye, spreading her special brand of salacious gossip and mischief. She turned to return to her pets, only to come face to face with the queen, who was grinning broadly.

"Clea, darling, you simply must meet Ophelia!" The Queen sang, taking her arm and dragging her towards a tall, tanned woman in a tight, dark blue gown. She had a fan in one hand and the leashes of two brunettes that must have been twins in the other.

Clea's lips pursed immediately. She had a rule of never interacting with anyone with a larger ego than herself, and this tall, infuriatingly gorgeous person had an eerily familiar self-satisfied smile on her face.

"Clea, this is Madame Ophelia Garneau. The ambassador to France." The Queen purred, "One of my dearest friends, she's just returned from Versailles."

"Ah, lady Lamont! Une tel plaisir !" The Ambassador beamed, taking Clea's hand and kissing it. "I ave' eard’ so much from er' majesty!" Clea eyed the Frenchwoman with suspicion, struggling to maintain her disapproval as she drank in the woman’s generous curves and sculpted features. Her eyes were big and bright, a soft, pale brown in colour. Her hair was a rich chestnut and was elegantly coiffed to one side of her head. Her lips were full and soft, painted dark to match the shining obsidian necklace draped around her dainty throat. Her lace-gloved fingers were constantly moving, twisting her fan or rolling the leashes of her pets over one another.

Clea smiled thinly and bowed her head. "I dread to think." 

The Ambassador threw her head back and let out a high, clear laugh. "Oh! Such wit!" She turned to the Queen, fanning herself vigorously. "I see why she delights you so."

"Calm yourself Ophelia, the party's not yet begun."  The Queen smiled. Clea frowned and looked between them.

"It hasn't?" She asked, "What is this, mere prelude?"

"Quoi!?" The Ambassador gasped, fanning herself all the more. "You are a newcomer!? You're in for such an experience!"

"Ophie! Hush!" The Queen hissed, taking Clea's arm and smiling. "I shall explain in time darling; I promise. Enjoy the dinner in the meanwhile, please!"

"I will speak to you soon ma chere!" The Ambassador called as she was led firmly away. "Save a dance for me!"

Clea stood, watching with bemusement as the pair swept away, before turning and stepping back to her seat, sinking gratefully into it and sighing. Savage’s lips found her hand as she sat and she smiled, allowing her faithful redhead to pepper each of her knuckles with meek little kisses.

“Yer not… angry with me, are ye?” she asked softly, earning a fond sigh and a gentle caress.

“Of course not, love.” She smiled, “You just… surprised me, that’s all. I hadn’t thought that… perhaps… you may want to take a more dominant role in our little relationship.”

“I… I don’t.” Savage frowned. “I thought… ye wanted that.”

“Nonsense.” Clea snorted, blushing slightly. Savage’s frown deepened but she sighed and surrendered.

“Who was that lady the Queen introduced ye to?”

“That…” Clea sighed, pursing her lips, “is the ambassador to France. Apparently, she’s friends with her majesty.”

“She’s pretty.” Marigold smiled.

“And yet ye don’t seem to like her.” Savage said, suppressing the urge to smile as well as Clea’s eyes narrowed.

“She’s French.” Clea sniffed, “Of course I don’t like her. She’s smug and smarmy and too good looking for her own good. I don’t trust her. That smile is hiding something sinister.”

Savage grinned down at her lap before resting her head against Clea’s side, sighing contentedly. “I love ye, mistress.”

“I love you to, my darling.” Clea murmured as the Queen returned to her throne at last and raised a glass.

“Friends! You have my most heartfelt thanks for being here!” she began, admiring the group gathered around the table. “It has been entirely too long since we all gathered, and tonight we will make up for all that time.”

She turned to Clea and grinned. “We have many things to celebrate, but first and foremost! I have acquired a new plaything, and it will be my most immense pleasure to debut her here today. She is a magnificent specimen, and I must thank Lady Clea Lamont in particular for her, as no one else in my great empire could have broken her as quickly and professionally.”

Clea preened, of course, and bowed her head, making a decent show of modesty. The Queen snapped her fingers. “So, without further delay, let the banquet begin.”

Two doors on either side of the hall opened and a dozen girls quickly pattered through, carrying the guest’s meals on polished silver platters. Each of them was squeezed into gorgeous lingerie in a crisp, snowy white. Legs slipped into stockings hooked into garter belts, arms covered up to elbow in slim, transparent gloves. Corsets accentuated their hips and busts, the latter tastefully hidden by sleek brassieres. About each of their throats was a lace choker in place of their usual collars.

Clea couldn’t help but salivate as the beautiful creatures scampered up to the table, smiling prettily as they presented the guests their meals. She noticed a few familiar faces from about the palace, but it took a moment to properly recognise them thanks to the expertly applied make-up, giving each girl smouldering eyes and plush pink lips. Their faces were not the only thing that had been groomed and made presentable, their cocks were all standing proudly to attention, almost shining with all the care that had gone into cleaning them. Neat silver rings were fixed around their bases, nestled in the neatly trimmed patches of curls that crowned their rods.

Beast, or rather Christine, was easy to see, a good head taller than any of the other girls, and considerably more buxom. She padded, blushing, to the queen and bent over to set down her platter, biting her lip as the queen caressed her rump.

“Yer meal, milady.” A soft Irish voice said, breathy and delicate. Clea tore her eyes away from Christine and smiled at the petite ginger who had brought her meal to the table. The girl blushed under her gaze and averted her eyes.

“Thank you, dear.” Clea said, tapping her chin with a finger.

The girl beamed at the attention and bowed her head, scurrying back a few paces and crossing her hands behind her back.

“May I present Christine, my new pet.” The Queen purred, tangling her fingers in the thick black curls of Christine’s hair and grinned, patting her hip. Christine’s cheeks darkened as she straightened her back, flexing her impressive muscles to a low chorus of coos from the assembled noblewomen.

The food was delicious, even outstripping the meals Clea had been treated to in her time at the palace. Savage clearly felt so, quickly polishing her bowl off while struggling to remain composed, Marigold didn’t even try, burying her face in her bowl and devouring everything she could reach. She was only brought away when Clea delivered a sharp smack to her rear, tutting and wiping the girl’s face with a napkin. “Really, sweet, did Allian teach you nothing?”

“S… sorry mistress.” Marigold mumbled.

“At lest you were under the table.” Clea sighed, straightening up suddenly as the heavy wooden doors to the hall opened.

“Ah!” The Queen exclaimed excitedly, raising her glass again. “Lady Marron! I was worried you wouldn’t come!”

Clea’s eyes narrowed as Ambrose stepped down the short flight of stairs to the table, cheeks flushed as all eyes fell onto her. She looked stunning, slipped into a tight, black dress that showed her subtle curves with a string of pearls around her throat. She saw Clea and smiled, only for that smile to falter as she saw her scowl.

“Lady Marron is the other of my esteemed guests this evening!” The Queen purred, “She worked closely with Clea here to break in my dear Christine.”

“Sorry I’m late, Your Majesty.” Ambrose murmured, “I hadn’t a thing to wear.”

“Now Ambrose, you should I know I don’t put much stock in fashion.” The queen tutted, “I’m much more interested in what lies under your pretty dress.”

Ambrose was bright red in an instant, spluttering as The Queen stood and raised her goblet one last time. “Ladies, now that we are assembled, I believe it is time to call this meeting of the Scarlet Women to session!” Clea blinked, surprised, and looked about the hall. Everyone looked to be in on whatever was happening, except for Ambrose who was looking faint. “Welcome!”

Clea cleared her throat and forced a smile. “Forgive me, your majesty, but… what exactly is happening? And who are The Scarlet Women?”

“We are the Scarlet Women my dear.” The Queen laughed. “The women in this room are the most powerful in the kingdom, and they, like me, have rejected the notion that women of our standing should be constricted by modesty and piety, that we should be ashamed of our sexuality and restrict how we enjoy ourselves. We are women who enjoy the finest things in life, good food, good wine, good sex!”

“Ah…” Clea nodded slowly. “A secret order.”

“Which would dearly like to count you among it’s members!” The queen nodded brightly. “Come, it’s ever so much fun! And there are benefits beyond these lovely creatures!” She waved her hand at the assembled women, all of whom, mistress and slave alike, were waiting for her answer.

She cleared her throat, for once wishing she wasn’t the centre of attention. “Your Majesty… I am honoured.”

“Then you’ll accept?”

“It seems we share our outlook on life.” Clea smiled, “Why live a half-life in society’s constraints, when it’s so much more fun to be free?”

“Marvellous!” The Queen clapped, “And you, Ambrose?”

Ambrose was pale, and despite Clea’s anger at being snubbed by the slender beauty, she felt a sharp pang of pity. Ambrose’s eyes darted around the room before fixing down at her lap, she opened her mouth and choked, steeling herself before trying again.

“I…”

“Sadly Rosie wants no place in this group.” Clea said loudly. “She’s a delicate soul. Why, she couldn’t look Christine in the eye all the time we were breaking her. No, no Rosie wants a gentle husband and a long life of matrimony, not the hedonism of this sordid gathering.”

The queen’s smile faltered. “Perhaps.” She said slowly. “But I would hear it from Lady Marron herself, if you don’t mind.” She turned back to Ambrose who was watching Clea with a small smile on her flushed face.

“Clea is… wrong.” She said quietly. “I would very much like to accept your invitation, your majesty.”

“Are you sure, my dear? Know we shall not think any less of you if you refuse.”

“I have a secret, your majesty.” Ambrose smiled. “One Clea is attempting to keep. She is a true friend. But… I would like to join your order anyway. I’m tired of hiding away in my manor, I want friends, I want fun… I want to experience the kind of life you all enjoy!”

“Then it is my pleasure to accept you both into the Scarlet Women!” The queen cried, a cheer going out from the assembled women. “Now let’s go fuck!”

-o-o-o-

“Thank you, Clea.” Ambrose breathed, catching her arm as the women made their way from the banquet hall. Clea smiled thinly and nodded.

“Think nothing of it, Lady Marron.”

“I… I came by the house last night, but you were busy.” Ambrose said quietly. “I wanted to… apologise for what I said.”

Clea paused, Marigold walked into her and squeaked in surprise. “You came to the house? When?”

“It was quite late.” Ambrose admitted, “It took a while to steel my nerves. One of your staff told me you were not to be disturbed… but that’s not important. I… I was wrong, and I was awful to you. You’ve been such a friend to me these past weeks, more than I ever thought. I was just so scared you see, scared that if we were to be seen to be close I would be discovered! But I realised that doesn’t matter. What point is there to life if I refuse to live it for fear of discovery?” She paused for breath, blushing, and smiled. “I’m sorry.”

Clea eyed her before sighing, “You are… tremendously frustrating, my love.” She reached out and took her hand, squeezing. “Apology accepted.”

“Thank you, Clea.” Ambrose whispered before her eyes widened. “oh… my.”

They had stepped into the order’s playroom, an immense circular chamber richly carpeted and filled with soft, inviting pillows. A number of small alcoves lined the walls, each with a bed and curtains that could be drawn to cut them off. As they watched, the women of the order stripped themselves with well-practiced grace, standing naked without a hint of shame.

The queen turned, plump breasts jiggling as she threw her arms out. “Have fun my loves! Be free!”

Clea’s mouth watered as she saw the women begin, grabbing one another and their girls, anyone close and tugging them into passionate embraces. Lips met, hands fondled breasts, thighs parted, cocks throbbed. Women bent over, lay back, climbed one another, and soon the stink of sex was filling the air.

“Ma chere.” A soft French voice purred from behind Clea. She let out a sharp squeak as a pair of hands found her rear and squeezed. “You promised a dance pour moi.”

“Ophelia you harlot.” The queen tutted, sashaying close and resting her hands-on Ambrose’s shoulders. “Ask our dear new friends first.”

“Of course.” The Ambassador sighed reluctantly, stepping around and flashing a dazzling smile. “Lady Lamont, would you do me the onour’ of being my ore’ tonight?”

Clea’s mouth opened to shoot back a snide response but fell silent as the Ambassador caressed the one thing Clea has least expected to find between her legs. Her cock pulsed hungrily between her thighs, pampered and powdered and perfectly groomed, eagerly anticipating sinking deep into Clea’s twat. “Ah, you like?” The Ambassador cooed, “You see that thanks to the order, I may live as mistress and not slave! I am powerful and sexual, and I would dearly like to feel you around me this night, ma chere.”

“Clea, may I please borrow this little darling?” The Queen asked, rolling her eyes as The Ambassador stroked herself. She drew Marigold close and pressed the girl’s head between her heaving udders. Marigold whined and found a nipple, suckling and kissing at it delightedly, her cock hot and hard between her legs.

“Be my guest.” Clea sighed, fixing the Ambassador with a hard stare. “And you, Ambassador, are welcome to try and conquer me. But I will warn you now that you will fail.”

“Ah… a challenge. Merveilleuse!” The Ambassador purred, baring her teeth in a hungry grin. “Shall we?” she extended her arm and Clea took it, holding her ground for a moment to turn to Ambrose.

“Rosie, take Savage.” She smiled, cupping her cheek. “She will take good care of you, and she is perfectly discrete I promise.”

Ambrose blushed and looked to Savage who bowed her head. “Alright… Let’s go find a bed. I’d like some privacy, if that’s alright.”

“My place is to serve.” Savage smiled coldly, following her away as the women split, finding their spots for the evening and getting down to the business of fucking one another’s brains out.

-o-o-o-

“Oh Marigold.” The queen sighed, voice dripping with desire as the tiny girl mounted her, “So eager to make me your whore.” She bit her lip and moaned as Marigold’s hands took her hips and pushed herself fully inside.

“Y… yes your majesty.” Marigold groaned, panting with delight as the older woman’s tunnel caressed her cock. She squeaked as Christine took her shoulders, looking terrified, but melting immediately as the fierce woman pushed a passionate kiss onto her lips. She blinked stupidly as Christine pulled back, earning a small smile from the dark-haired amazon.

“You… are small.” She said softly, “It’s nice.”

“You’re… really beautiful.” Marigold managed to splutter, utterly in awe of the terrifying, beautiful slave.

The queen rolled her eyes and jerked her hips backwards, making Marigold moan suddenly and turn her attention back to her. “Christine you magnificent beast, stop distracting my new favourite and come let me suck that fat cock.” Christine’s cheeks darkened immediately and she shuffled around, whimpering as the Queen greedily inhaled her cock.

Marigold’s hips were moving almost on their own, her body desperate to sink her cock into the Queen’s warm wet cunt. The older woman’s walls were delightfully hot, squeezing and milking her rod, her wetness soaking the patch of straw-coloured curls crowning Marigold’s rod. The queen’s doughy cheeks rippled beneath her palms as she moaned and bucked against them. Her moans were soft and muffled, cheeks sucking concave as she bobbed back and forth on Christine’s pole.

As Marigold watched the Queen surfaced for air, tongue lolling as she panted for breath. A long, thin strand of spit was still connecting her to Christine’s meat, her eyes were almost glowing with hungry light. “You’re doing… wonderful work back there… darling.” She crooned, turning and blowing her a kiss.

“Y… you feel… so amazing.” Marigold whimpered.

“Hmmm.” The Queen giggled, tweaking one of Christine’s nipples before straightening her back. Her fingers slipped through the soft golden curls of Marigold’s hair and pulled her tight against her shoulder, releasing a happy coo as the girl blushed and kissed her skin. “I’ve aged like a fine wine.”

“Ah!” Marigold squeaked as the Queen moved. Suddenly finding herself sitting with the Queen nestled in her lap, her cock pulsed and she bit her lip, trying her best to hold back her orgasm. Somehow, the queen knew this, and turned her head to smile at her.

“Don’t be afraid to cum inside me, precious. I’m a little old to have any more children.” She laughed, “Blow as many loads into me as you can! And you!” she turned sharply back to Christine who winced, nervously shuffling closer on her knees as the Queen curled a finger. “You need to stand up so I can keep playing with this magnificent pole.” A finger pushed down on Christine’s cock and then let her go, sending the fat, throbbing rod bouncing back up.

Marigold had nothing to do but lie back and squeak with delight as the Queen hefted herself up and came slapping back down onto her rod, bouncing herself with remarkable energy, slurping at Christine’s cock with feral delight. The little blonde whimpered as she came, the Queen not slowing for a moment as a thick, creamy load of sperm was shot into her.

Allian had been vicious when she had enjoyed her, Clea was gentle, but demanding. The Queen was desperate and unrelenting, she fucked like it was all that kept her alive, like it was all that mattered in the world. She moaned and groaned and giggled like a schoolgirl. Her body rippled and rolled and undulated like a trained dancer. Marigold wasn’t quite sure how she was supposed to react, lying helpless and watching as the Queen greedily slurped at Christine’s sack, pressing her nose against the underside of her shaft and spreading her spit over as much of her new pet’s skin as she could.

“H… hah… mistress… I’m close!” Christine whined, blushing down at the queen as she neatly engulfed the entirety of her cock into her gullet. The queen gurgled softly and pulled back, licking her lips before looking back at Marigold.

“Come here.” She growled lustfully, grabbing Christine by the cock and tugging her close to Marigold. “And you, up, up!”

Marigold squeaked as she was yanked upwards, finding herself staring straight down the barrel of Christine’s mighty rod. She swallowed and looked nervously up at the Queen, blushing head to toe as the queen moved Christine closer until her cock was pressing against the blonde’s cheek, smearing hot, wet precum over her skin.

“Now you are going to take every last drop of my Christine’s cum.” The Queen purred, lips brushing Marigold’s ear, “And you’re going to hold it in your mouth, alright? No swallowing.”

“I… I’ve never…”

“It’s alright.” The queen whispered, “It’ll be easy. Just don’t swallow.”

Marigold whimpered but obediently opened her mouth. The sensation of having a cock in her mouth was new, but not unpleasant. It was a distinctly savoury taste, and the fat, pulsing head was soft as it pressed down on her tongue. Cautiously, she began to explore the plump pink cock, her tongue poking and stroking over it. she smiled shyly up at the blushing amazon, and then squeaked as a jet of steaming-hot spunk blasted her tonsils.

She choked and spluttered, desperately trying to keep as much of the cum in her cheeks as she could even as she spasmed and sent tiny rivers of white oozing from her nostrils.

She blinked and saw Christine kneeling in front of her, looking up at the queen for instructions. “Clean up your mess, fucktoy.”

Christine’s cheeks darkened and she bowed her head, cupping Marigold’s cheeks and gently drawing her into a soft kiss. Marigold’s heart fluttered as the dark-haired beauty cleaned out the inside of her mouth with her tongue, sperm and spit mixing as the kiss went on. She let out a soft gasp as Christine’s tongue dragged over her face, leaving her wet and sticky, but less cum-spattered.

Marigold let out a quiet, adoring mew and blushed up at the older women, her cock standing happily to attention and nuzzling tight against Christine’s massive member. “Wh… What now, ma’am?”

-o-o-o-

Clea’s breath hitched as the Ambassador’s fingers skilfully unlaced her dress, baring her breasts and purring with approval. “I ave’ always adored the pregnant figure.” She smiled, “I keep my menagerie pleasingly plump at all times.”

“Glad… you approve.” Clea grunted impatiently, shifting against the pillows. “But can we get on with it?”

“Absolument, ma chere.” The ambassador chuckled, bringing her hands stroking down over her bust and corseted belly to her cock. “Ow’ am I to resist such a beauty?” Her grin widened as Clea moaned beneath her, the hot wet mess of her sex squeezing tight around her rod as she pushed inside. Her hands moved to spread Clea’s thighs wide and then placed a palm against her belly.

“Rumour as’ it you were bred by that lovely redhead.” She purred, enjoying Clea’s angry scowl and soft, reluctant groans of delight. “Such a scandal!”

“H… hardly…” Clea hissed through her teeth, fingers clenching. “People have more… salacious… things to talk about. Like how… the French Ambassador… is sleeping with the Queen.”

Much to Clea’s annoyance, the Ambassador’s grin only widened. “My, such fire you ave’!” she giggled, stroking her hands up over her belly to her breasts, pinching her gently. “I admire it, truly! And I promise you ave’ nothing to fear from me. To be onest’ zis is a welcome break from the gossip of ome’. Versailles is abuzz with Queen Angelique’s new mistress, it is nice to come ere’ where things are simple.”

Clea grunted vaguely and bit her lip, struggling to hold back a moan of pleasure and instead letting slip a tiny mew that sounded positively kitten-like. The Ambassador was tittering immediately. “Ah, Lady Lamont! You are warming up to me!” she grinned and leaned down, lips pressing against her feverish skin and moving closer and closer towards her lips. Clea would have made a witty retort, or even slapped her away as the Ambassador pushed a surprisingly tender kiss onto her, but her cock was infuriating magnificent and it wall all she could do to hold herself back from orgasm even after such a short time.

Not for the first time, she cursed how sensitive pregnancy had made her, once upon a time she could have ridden Savage for hours, now she became a sopping mess after mere minutes! “Myah… You… French… whore.” She spat as the kiss broke, shooting an impotent scowl at the ambassador as she straightened her back and set to work thrusting into her.

“Oui, I am French.” The Ambassador grinned toothily. “But I am wondering, what are you?”

“I’m… English… proudly.”

“Ah, but Lamont is a Scotch name, no?” Clea went quiet. The Ambassador noticed. “If I am not mistaken, your ancestors came from ze north just as these lovely pets you own do. Perhaps this is where your spirit comes from? Or perhaps your affection for them?”

“Shut up and fuck me you cunt.” Clea muttered, earning a victorious giggle from the Ambassador and a sharp, sudden orgasm as the Frenchwoman jerked her hips. She whimpered and fell into a sullen silence as the Ambassador smugly set to work, treating Clea to a long, hard fucking. The final injustice came as the Ambassador deliberately pulled herself from Clea’s tunnel, shooting her thick, pearly sperm over Clea’s breasts before sauntering away to find another playmate.

-o-o-o

“Oh… S… Savage.” Ambrose cooed as strong hands slid her dress down her back and tossed it aside, leaving her trembling in only her underthings, pulsing with anticipation. Savage growled softly as she turned, blushing as the girl’s eyes drank in her little breasts and slim belly, before landing on the excitedly bulge in her panties.

“Hmmf.” Savage scowled, before moving close again and stripping Ambrose of her underwear. Ambrose quivered, Savage’s breath hot against her skin, she was unreasonably hard for not having been touched once that evening. Savage’s fingers slipped through her waistband and Ambrose mewed, her cock springing free as her panties were slid down her legs.

“What do you think?” She whispered, taking Savage’s hands and keeping her close, feeling the girl’s muscular body rub against her thin frame.

“I think ye have a cock.” Savage muttered.

“But… do you like it?”

“Of course, ma’am.” Savage replied, wearing a transparently false smile. “I think it’s wonderful.”

Ambrose shifted uncomfortably and sat on the bed. “Savage… I’d like you to take me now. As hard as you please.” Savage sniffed and stretched for a moment before pouncing. Ambrose squeaked with surprise as she was pushed onto her back, legs tugged apart by Savage. She whined and then let out a low, dull grunt as Savage’s rod met her pucker. “Oh… g… god.”

“Ha!” Savage barked, gripping Ambrose’s thighs hard enough to bruise and forcing the first two inches of her mighty cock into to helpless noble’s asshole. Ambrose trembled and panted for a moment, cooing as the pain turned to pleasure. Her hands reached out to grab Savage, yanking her down into a desperate, passionate kiss.

“S… Savage.” Ambrose gasped as the kiss broke, holding Savage at bay with her palms pressed against the girl’s chest. She groaned and felt herself twitch with delight, Savage’s mighty cock stretching her rear more than it had been in years. “Savage, please… I need… to say… something.” She was still breathless and weak, cheeks bright red from the force of the kiss, the passion of the situation and the fat cock in her arse.

Savage’s scowl didn’t lessen, Ambrose sighed and moved her hands around to her ribs. “I… I’ve come to care for Clea deeply these past few weeks. I would like to be closer to her.” she admitted quietly, cheeks burning just as much from embarrassment as from the cock sheathed in her arse. “I’ve never had much luck in love… I push people away, but Clea knows my secret and she… she thinks I’m marvellous anyway.” She smiled and slowly craned her neck, her lips brushing against Savage’s cheek in a gentle kiss.

“She’ll always love you.” She whispered. “But I could love you too, the two of us could be your mistresses together, we could both take care of you and little Marigold.”

“Why do ye care what I think?” Savage growled finally, rolling her hips and making Ambrose whimper, her cute little cock standing straight up, desperate for attention. “If Mistress wants ye she’ll have ye, I won’t have a say.”

“But I care what you think.” Ambrose groaned, biting her lip, fingers lacing over her heaving chest. “Y… You’re Clea’s family. I don’t want to upset you, or make you feel like I’m trying to steal her away from you.”

Savage sighed, really wishing for the first time that evening that she could just get down to fucking rather than talk about her feelings. “Mistress is my Mistress; she does what she wants to do. But… I will not complain if she accepts ye.”

Ambrose smiled; it would have to do. She lay back and moaned as Savage began to thrust into her in earnest, making her cock bob back and forth and making her small, elegant breasts ripple with every impact. “Oh Savage… oh yes… just like that.”

Savage allowed herself a small smile at seeing Ambrose blush and mew beneath her, and gently took her behind her knees, pushing her legs up towards her body and holding them there. Ambrose’s rod was maybe half the size of Savage’s, and it was practically vibrating with excitement as its owner was slowly fucked.

“You’re so big.” Ambrose groaned. “I’ve… I’ve never taken something so l… large!”

“Hmm, I bet ye shove things inside yer arse every day, don’t ye?” Savage growled. “Ye play at bein’ civilised, but yer just a whore like any other.”

“Oh… oh y… yes.” Ambrose whimpered, nodding emphatically as Savage gritted her teeth and pushed deeper. “I… I love cocks in my… my arse!”

Savage grinned to herself, a dominant spark lit inside her. Perhaps this was the perfect opportunity to practice being in charge, just in case Clea ever did want to experiment? She lowered herself over Ambrose and growled, “Such a filthy whore ye are. And ye have the nerve to play at being a mistress? As if ye could ever resist being put in yer proper place by someone like me.”

“Hah!” Ambrose squeaked as Savage hooked her legs over her shoulders, freeing her hands to explore the soft, slim flesh of her body. “S… Savage! What are you…d…dooooing?”

“Shut up and beg me to touch ye.” Savage growled, a strong, heavy hand landing over one of Ambrose’s tiny breasts and kneading it slowly, drawing a breathless croak from Ambrose’s lips. “Beg me to treat ye like ye crave. Ye know ye want to be a slut for someone like me, admit it!”

“I doooo.” Ambrose whined, eyes rolling back in her head as she shook. “I want… I just want someone to make love to me! I want someone to take care of me and f… fuck me and make me theirs!” Savage grinned, glowing with satisfaction and hissing as she forced the last inch of her rod into Ambrose’s rear.

With a slow, deliberate movement, Savage pulled herself back and then slammed her hips back forwards. The slap of flesh was drowned out by a howl of ecstasy from Ambrose, as was the soft, wet splattering sound of Ambrose’s cum raining onto her belly. “S… Savage! More!”

Savage obliged, Ambrose howling and moaning and sobbing with delight as she was fucked harder than she had been all her life. Her own cum cooled against her skin as she was rocked, tears of pain sparkled in her eyes as she was stretched. She panted for breath as Savage paused, the first of many loads resting heavy inside her, only to let out a sharp squeak as Savage grabbed and spun her onto her front.

“Savage!” she whimpered, rear stuck up in the air, cock oozing cum down onto the soft covers of their little bed. “Savage… please.”

“Please what?” Savage asked, hands resting on her hips, her rod thrumming with excitement between her cheeks.

“More.” Ambrose whimpered, wiggling her rear. Savage sniffed and patted her gently.

She slid back inside Ambrose’s eager pucker, making the noble woman’s eyes roll back in her head. Ambrose whimpered, biting her lip and settling down into the next round of anal. She could hear the delighted moans and cries of the women beyond the curtain, and wondered if Clea was having fun.

-o-o-o-

“Here, let me help.” Savage said quietly, taking Ambrose’s arm and quickly straightening the straps of her dress. A soft noise that might have been a ‘thank you’ came from the trembling woman, and they stepped out of their little alcove into the rest of the party.

Things were quietening down, some of the guests even falling asleep as a distant clock struck two. Ambrose groaned and tried to walk on her own, stumbled, and fell back against Savage. She saw Clea resting in a warm armchair near a roaring fire, and patted Savage’s arm. Her silver-blonde hair was shimmering like platinum in the flickering light, the young Irish girl that had brought her meal suckling at her teat.

She glanced up as they approached and flashed a weary smile. “Rosie, Rosie, Rosie. What a mess my darling has made of you.” The ginger suckling her stirred and tried to pull away, only for Clea to place a hand on her head. “Mm, no… no don’t stop dear.”

“Wh… where’s the Ambassador?” Ambrose asked, dropping heavily into a chair opposite and sighing as Savage slipped an arm around her waist.

“Elsewhere.” Clea smiled, “I wore her out. But this lovely little thing was kind enough to clean me up… and now she’s taking some much-needed pressure off my chest, so to speak.”

“I… I’m not going to ask.” Ambrose decided. “Savage… Savage was wonderful.”

“She always is.” Clea hummed sleepily, fingers raking through the soft copper locks of the girl at her breast.

“This… this was good.” Ambrose said after a while. “I’ve not had so much fun in years. And… it’s so nice to be able to let my hair down with people I can trust.”

“I’ll have you out here with the rest of these degenerates by the years end.” Clea laughed, eyes closed. “If that bitch ambassador can waltz about with her cock out and it stay a secret, I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Maybe.” Ambrose mumbled shyly, eyeing the soft, sleepy sex begin to die down. “I hope so.”

The queen crawled up to them on all fours and lay herself down with a low groan. Her body was licked with sweat and sperm, her steely hair a matted mess. Christine fell heavily to the floor beside her and let out a quiet sigh of relief that she could rest. Marigold padded up to Clea, rubbing her eyes and curled up by her feet, immediately falling fast asleep against her shins and snoring sweetly.

“I think… we should retire.” Clea smiled. “This little darling needs her bed.”

“Your… rooms in the palace are available.” The Queen mumbled. “Or… my carriage drivers will take you wherever you like.”

“I… think we should go home.” Clea hummed, gently drawing the girl away from her and kissing her forehead. “Thank you, your majesty. If you need anything from me, you only have to ask.”

“I know love, I know.” The queen sighed, resting her head on her arms. “Take care.”

Clea stood and tugged Ambrose to her feet, letting out a soft ‘oh’ as she fell heavily against her. Cheeks flushed, she carefully wrapped an arm around the thin woman’s waist and gestured for Savage to take Marigold.

All four of them piled into a carriage and took the ride to the house in sleepy silence. Ambrose rested against Clea’s shoulder, fighting to stay awake. Marigold lay curled in Savage’s lap, sound asleep and smiling.

Clara and Annie helped them inside and helped clean them up as they stumbled upstairs into Clea’s room. The moment they touched the bed they were asleep, heaped in an undignified but very cosy pile, bodies all tangled together in a four-way cuddle.

Annie smiled to Clara and sent her to bed, carefully tucking in her mistress and her guests. It was nice to see her mistress happy, and as she lay there with the others, she looked truly content.

Girl's Night.

With Graham and Ryan off the Tardis, The Doctor takes Yaz to visit a tribe of pink, muscular, futa amazons. Things go about as well as you'd think.

-o-o-o-

“Doctor, where exactly are we going?” Yaz asked as The Doctor pranced excitedly about the TARDIS console, reaching out every so often and flicking a switch or turning a dial. The blonde was grinning ear-to-ear and wiggling her ass in tune to whatever was playing in her headphones as she went around and around and around enough to make Yaz’s head spin. “Hey!” she shouted as The Doctor came around again, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hmm? What?” The Doctor Blinked, continuing to shuffle in place. “Can’t hear you! Music!”

Yaz scowled and yanked the headphones off her head. “I asked where are we going?” she sighed, before looking down at the headphones. “And what were you listening to anyway?” she put the headphones on and frowned. Whatever the hell The Doctor was listening to, it wasn’t music, just a chorus of shrieks and alien moans with no real tune or melody. Her frown deepened and she freed one ear.

“It’s Mellixian club music.” The Doctor grinned, “Mathematically designed to stimulate your body to move! Look at those hips go!”

Yaz looked down and saw her lower half swaying side to side in a manner all to sexual for her to be doing without knowing. The fat peach of her ass jiggled with every small jerk before she found herself ducking down and pushing her rear out, her jeans hugging her rump tight.

“Hey!” she yelped, tearing off the headphones and throwing them at The Doctor. “Why are you listening to music that makes you dance so… slutty.”

“Slutty?” The Doctor frowned, “I dunno what that means, but apparently I like… to… move!” she grinned and dropped down, rolling her hips as she came back up before spinning and continuing to sashay around the console. “New body! New hobbies!”

Yaz groaned and folded her arms over her chest, trying to keep her eyes of The Doctor’s butt as she danced about. “Will you please tell me where we’re going? And why Ryan and Graham aren’t here?”

“Boy stuff.” The Doctor shrugged. “Thought we should counter with girl stuff! I’ve never done girl stuff before, I bet I’m rubbish at it, but that just means… I… need… practice!” she paused at a screen, twerking her hips absent-mindedly as she read off strange alien characters.

“Ok… girl’s night.” Yaz said, lips pursed. “Doing what? And where?”

“Best place for girl stuff in this galaxy!” The Doctor grinned. “Perisillon 2!”

Yaz blinked slowly, waiting for the inevitable explanation.

“Great place Perisillon.” The Doctor continued, as expected. “Nice planet, lots of jungles, excellent beaches. But it’s the people we’re interested in, The Perisites!”

“Perisites?” Yaz repeated tiredly. “Like parasites with an ‘e’? Don’t tell me, they’re a race of horrible worms that crawl up inside you and take over your mind?”

“Nah.” The Doctor smiled, “Lovely bunch.” She ducked behind the screen, ass still wiggling away before swaying from side to side as she popped back up. “I could arrange some mind-worms, though they’re not nearly as pretty as all those movies.”

“I don’t want to know.” Yaz surrendered, raising her hands and stepping up beside her. The screen showed a tall, muscular, pink skinned woman wearing a skimpy metal bikini. Two long, curved horns like a ram’s were poking out from her mass of black dreadlocks. She jumped as The Doctor’s hips bumped against hers and sighed again, pinching her brow.

“Visited them a couple times in my youth, lovely girls. Their population is all female and no one knows how they reproduce, no one at all! Anthropologists have spent years trying to find out, biologists have made hundreds of theories, but no one’s ever found out.”

“Until us.” Yaz muttered.

“UNTIL US!” The Doctor declared, grinning. “We’re girls, we can just walk on in and find out! They’ll let men down for parties but if you go anywhere near one of the villages, you’ll lose more than a few body parts!”

“If they’ll let us in, why haven’t women scientists just gone to found out?” Yaz asked as The Doctor wiggled towards the door, the TARDIS’s groaning sound dying down into silence. “And why can’t people just scan them? Look at the planet from space and spy on them or something?”

“I dunno.” The Doctor shrugged, pausing in the open doorway and sticking her rear out, rolling her hips in provocative little circles before Yaz snatched the headphones away and threw them back into the TARDIS. “Let’s go find out!”

They stepped out in the centre of a ring of houses built inside trees. A great number of pink-skinned women were looking at them in stunned confusion. Yaz looked from the crowd, to The Doctor, and then back. She wondered who was going to speak first.

“Hi!” The Doctor said brightly, waving a hand. “Sorry… I seem to have landed in the middle of your village, I was aiming for the edge, sort of. Anyway, I’m The Doctor, you may remember me, I was wearing a different body. And this is Yaz!” She clapped Yaz on the shoulders and grinned. “We’re here to hang out!”

The crowd looked at them, if anything more stunned by The Doctor’s introduction. One by one, they turned to their leader. She was taller and more muscular than all of them, with long silver streaks in her mane of black hair. Her lip curled and she stamped down a short staircase to glower down at them.

“You’ve trespassed in our home, explain yourselves.”

The Doctor swallowed nervously and flashed a small smile. She explained who she was and why they’d come.

The chief’s lip curled.

-o-o-o-

“I… I told you… this was a great idea.” The Doctor slurred, kneeling on the ground and kissing one of the fat pink cocks being presented to her. “Lovely bunch the… the Perisites. So nice… very… very tasty.”

She hiccuped and a little spunk oozed out of her mouth. “Yaz? Wh… where’d you go?” She looked about stupidly before shrugging and placing a sweet kiss on the nearest cock. “She’s ok… right?”

“Sure.” One of the girls huddled around her shrugged, “You’ve rested enough, get back to work.”

“Mmm hmm.” The Doctor nodded eagerly, scooping up the first cock her eyes and wrapping her lips around its plump pink head. Her lashes fluttered with delight and her hands roamed out, finding another two cocks and beginning to pet them.

She’d already guzzled down a half-dozen thick, creamy loads, and her newly regenerated body felt like it was on fire all over again. Her skin felt feverishly hot, sweat was pouring over her skin. The Perisites’ spunk was sitting heavily in her stomach, glowing with warmth and making her want to just sit and bask in the delicious feeling. Her new breasts were tingling, eager to be taken in strong pink hands and squeezed and pinched and played with until they were sore.

She gurgled softly as the fat pink head of the woman she was servicing pushed past the base of her tongue and down her gullet, eyes crossing stupidly as she was throatfucked past the point of breaking.

There was a heat between her thighs, something she’d never felt before. It was pulsing, burning, screaming out for satisfaction. Soft whimpering moans escaped out of her stuffed mouth and she pushed her hips forwards, showing off the dampness between her legs to the crowd stroking themselves above her.

“Ha! The bitch is in heat!” One of the Perisites crowed. “look at her squirm!”

“I think she’s hungry for more!” Another grinned, “Move over a little.” She pushed the woman throatfucking The Doctor to one side and hooked two fingers into The Doctor’s mouth, yanking her lips even further apart. The Doctor whimpered and then let out a muffled scream as the newcomer forced her cock into her mouth, pressing it tight against the pole already buried in her throat. The pain made spots dance in front of her eyes but a sharp thrust forced the second cock deep into her, snug against the first.

The Doctor gagged wetly, trembling with ecstasy as her throat was stuffed full of pink cockmeat. Her hands were moving so fast they were almost blurs over another two fat, throbbing cocks, desperately milking them over her helpless body. More pink hands began to roam over her body, exploring her clothes with interest before tugging them off her helpless body. Soon she was naked and quivering, lashes fluttering as the crowd groped at her.

-o-o-o-

Yaz let out a quiet whine of pleasure as the Chief’s strong pink hands explored her chest, keeping her pulled back tight against her. The chief’s cock was throbbing between Yaz’s thighs, the flustered girl straddling her rod, legs dangling uselessly off the ground. “T… The Doctor… you’re going to… to hurt her!”

“She loves her treatment.” The chief purred into her ear, sharp teeth nipping at her soft brown skin. “My girls know where a female’s limits lie, they won’t hurt her… not badly.”

“B… but…”

“Silence, pretty thing.” The chief growled sharply, taking her by the throat and squeezing hard enough to cut off her air. Yaz spluttered weakly and clung to the chief’s wrist, clawing at her but not being anywhere near strong enough to free herself. “I am tired of admiring you, it is time to see if you feel as nice as you look.”

“Whhhkkk.” Yaz managed, eyes bulging as the Chief took her by the waist and lifted her like a doll, prodding her fat brown ass with the head of her cock before jerking her hips forwards and spearing Yaz’s waiting cunt.

Yaz let out a strangled howl of pain as she was tugged firmly down the chief’s shaft, only stopping when her plump cheeks were snug against pink-skinned hips. Even as her belly bulged from the intrusion, Yaz’s body was flooded with pleasure, pain fading along with her sanity as the chief began to move with slow, deliberate thrusts.

“You’re too… biiiig.” She whined, the chief’s grip on her throat loosening. “You’re fucking my womb!”

“That is the point.” The chief hissed, biting her lip and releasing a low sigh of delight as Yaz’s inner walls squeezed her shaft tight. The slow, almost gentle thrusts into Yaz gave her enough time to get her bearings, whatever pain she’d felt overwhelmed by mind-breaking pleasure. She panted and wriggled in the chief’s grip; arms trapped in her strong pink fists.

“Oh… fuck!” she squeaked as the Chief set to work, dragging her immense cock out of Yaz’s quivering cunt before slamming it back inside. Soon Yaz’s body was rippling under vicious, hungry thrusts, her belly bulging and her breasts bouncing. Wordless howls and squeals of lust poured from Yaz’s open mouth, her eyes rolling and tongue lolling as she lost control of her own body.

She caught glimpses of The Doctor once or twice, seeing the blonde being ravished by the clan, or at least seeing parts of her. The Perisites had apparently grown bored of violating her throat and shooting wads of spunk into her hair and had set themselves the task of fucking her for all she was worth.

A pair of long, pale legs were bobbing in the air, toes curling, as a muscular pink body rammed herself between them. Another was beneath, hands sinking into The Doctor’s hips and using the momentum of the first to help spear the blonde’s asshole. Two new Perisites were enjoying a throatfuck at The Doctor’s other end, fingers clawing at her red face and tangled hair. The rest were gathered around, either stroking themselves or using The Doctor’s helpless flesh for the same purpose. The Time-Lord was completely out of her mind, her hands vaguely stroking whatever came up against them.

Yaz whined at a particularly hard smack to her rear and found herself wishing she could join in the fun, be ravished alongside her friend. She quivered and moaned again, a hazy picture forming in her addled mind. She and The Doctor were being bred together, cocks surrounding them, the stink of the breeding frenzy clouding their minds. Their hands were entwined as their bodies were used, and as their mouths gleefully worshipped a fat pink pole. Their lips met around the shaft, brushing in a perverse kiss. Their heavy-lidded eyes staring at one another with adoring, submissive lust.

Yaz was snapped out of her daydream by a rush of searing-hot sperm crashing into her womb. She howled and twitched in the chief’s arms, belly swelling under the pressure. As her senses returned the crowd parted and she saw The Doctor.

The Doctor was a mess, legs spread and arms limp as she sat and gurgled happily. Her belly was so packed with cum that it sat like a fat, fleshy beachball on her thighs. The blonde’s front was drenched with sperm, some shot there deliberately, much more having poured out of the Time-Lord’s gaping mouth. The final Perisite finished over The Doctor’s face, a thick, glistening rope of cum landing over the ruined blonde’s nose, and stepped away, satisfied.

“You may leave now, return when it is time to birth your daughters.” The Chief said simply, dropping Yaz to the ground and crossing her arms. She watched with a smirk as Yaz crawled to The Doctor, took the quivering mess of a woman under her arms, and dragged her slowly into the odd blue box they had arrived inside.

Yaz whined and fell back, dropping the bloated blonde onto the TARDIS floor and whimpering as another spurt of cum oozed from her gaping petals. The TARDIS echoed softly, and The Doctor smiled, opening on eye. “H… hello you.”

“D… doctor.” Yaz groaned, crawling close and taking the blonde’s hand. “Please tell me you’re on the pill.”

The Doctor mewed quietly, patting her fat, round belly and biting her lip. “What’s that?”

Yaz moaned and rested her head on the cold floor, hoping desperately that the impossibly huge quantities of spunk shot into each of them wouldn’t produce a pair of pink-skinned babies in the next nine months like the chief had said.

“Yaz?”

“Y… yeah?”

“I think I really like being a girl.” The Doctor grinned, licking her lips.

Yaz blushed and shuffled closer, her cheek resting on a cum-spattered tit. The taste of cum was still heavy on her tongue, and before she knew what she was doing she was gently lapping at the mess covering The Doctor’s bust to delighted coos.

“Yaz.” The Doctor hummed, taking her cheeks and kissing her clean. “This… was fun.”

“Yeah.” Yaz mumbled, shyly moving herself down between The Doctor’s thighs and biting her lip as she saw the mess. “We… we should do this… again.” The Doctor didn’t reply, more concerned with moaning and whining as Yaz pressed herself snug against her oozing petals and began to devour the thick, delicious cum covering her.

It looked like girl’s night was going to be a regular occurrence.

Protected.

In the heat of the Reaper War, Commander Shepard wakes in bed to find that all the horror was just a dream. That instead of the heroic soldier and leader, she is simply a small, shy, submissive slut for her wife: Captain Liara T'Soni.

-o-o-o-

Shepard jerked awake, screaming breathlessly and clinging to the covers about her for dear life. She couldn’t breathe, her heart was throbbing in her chest, her cabin was completely dark. She sobbed, throat hoarse and reached blindly for something, anything, to comfort her.

Strong, soft hands found her, drawing a strangled squeak of terror from the commander’s lips. She tried to pull away, but whoever was in the dark with her drew her close and hugged her. “Heyyyy.” A gentle voice spoke into her ear. “Hey, it’s ok. I’ve got you, it’s alright. It was just a nightmare.”

“L… Liara.” Jane whimpered, recognising the asari’s voice and cuddling close against her, trembling like a leaf. “Oh god… oh god Liara…”

“EDI, lights.”

The lights in the cabin slowly lit up and Jane blinked, staring around the cabin in confusion. It was the same room it had always been, two levelled with the bed at the end and the desk by the bathroom, but it had been completely emptied of her things. Plants and old artefacts filled the shelf-spaces, a beautiful painting of a blue-grassed landscape was hung on the wall. Liara’s PhD was framed and set on the desk beside the terminal, alongside a picture of her and Shepard.

Liara was smiling in full, dark armour identical to Shepard’s own, arm around Jane’s waist. Jane was wearing a loose blue blouse, blushing shyly as Liara caressed her hip. She looked… happy, quiet and content in Liara’s grasp. They were on Thessia, Asari architecture clear in the city in the distance, the soft purple sky glowing above them as they smiled and cuddled.

Jane frowned, chest still heaving, she was certain she had never been to Thessia, and certainly not with Liara. And why was Liara wearing her armour?

“Jane?”

Shepard jumped, turning and blushing at Liara as the asari drew closer. She looked amazing. Jane gulped as Liara straightened up, hands resting on her shoulders, toned biceps far far more defined than they ever had been before. Somehow Liara had become the pinnacle of musculature, her whole body chiselled and toned.

“Y… yes.” Jane mumbled, tearing her eyes away from the rippling abs of Liara’s stomach and blushing up at her. “S… sorry.”

“Sorry? For what?” Liara frowned, moving her hands to her cheeks and squeezing her a little, her face was twisted with concern. “Are you alright? You were screaming? Was it another nightmare?”

“I… I don’t… remember.” Jane managed, looking down at herself and growing all the more confused. Whereas Liara was suddenly muscular and strong, she was soft and smooth, her body losing all of its carefully built athleticism. She seemed to have lost a few inches as well because Liara was practically towering over her.

The asari smiled weakly and pulled her into a kiss, petting her cheeks with her thumbs before letting her go. “What do you need baby? What can I do?”

“I… I just need a moment.” Jane whispered, shying away from Liara and shivering in the cool air. Liara frowned, kneeling on the bed and watching her walk to the bathroom.

The door hissed shut behind her and Jane let out a breathless gasp, falling against the sink. “Wh… what the fuck is happening to me?”

“Ms Shepard, are you feeling alright?” EDI’s voice asked.

“EDI… EDI, the picture on my desk, the one of me and Liara, when was it taken?” Jane groaned, twisting and drawing her legs up to her chest.

“That was taken last year, when Captain T’Soni brought you to her childhood home on Thessia.” EDI said, sounding confused. “Why do you ask?”

“Captain T’Soni?” Jane frowned, “What…?” she shook her head and pressed a palm against her forehead, hissing with discomfort. “EDI… can you please tell me everything that happened since… since I found the beacon on Eden Prime?”

“I certainly could, miss, but are you certain you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m fine, just tell me!” Jane snapped.

EDI paused for a moment before speaking. “After you were affected by the prothean artefact, you went to the citadel to attempt to expose Saren’s betrayal, but you were unsuccessful. Meanwhile Captain T’Soni had been found by Tali, who told her about her mother’s involvement. You two met when Captain T’Soni found you and used your information as well as Tali’s to prove Saren’s betrayal. She was made a spectre and given the task of hunting him down. She brought you and Ashley with her, and over the course of the mission, grew fond of you. You two begun your relationship the night before Saren was killed and Sovereign was destroyed. After the battle, you resigned, and Captain T’Soni was given the Normandy as a reward for her service, as a base of operations from which to carry out her missions as a spectre.”

“But that’s…” Jane murmured, “That’s all wrong. I found her, and Tali. I proved Saren was a traitor, I stopped Benezia and Saren and Sovereign! I was the first human spectre!”

“Miss Shepard, I think you’re just confused.” EDI said kindly. “You were just dreaming.”

Jane swallowed and hugged herself, trembling on the floor. “I… it felt so real… I was a hero; I was a soldier.”

“It must have been a nice fantasy, imagining you were like the Captain.” EDI replied. “But you’ve simply been the captain’s wife for as long as I have known you.”

Jane smiled down at her bonding band and played with the smooth silver for a moment. “I’m… I’m just her wife.”

There was a quiet knock at the door that made Jane jump, looking up at Liara as she poked her head around the door, looking anxious. “Jane… please, what’s wrong? Can’t I help?”

“I’m sorry.” Jane mumbled, “I just… it was just a bad dream.”

“You’re shivering.” Liara breathed, kneeling down and stroking her arms. “Come to bed.” Jane didn’t resist as Liara lifted her up and led her to the bed, pushing her down onto her back. Liara bundled her up in the covers and flashed a nervous smile, tucking some of Jane’s hair behind her ear. “You promise it was just a bad dream? You’d tell me if there was something wrong.”

“Of course.”

Liara sighed and kissed her nose. “I worry about you.”

“Why?” Jane laughed weakly. “I’m… I’m fine.”

“It’s my job to take care of you.” Liara said quietly, “I don’t know… sometimes I think we should retire. I could take you home to Thessia, we could have a normal life… we could have a family. You’d be safe and close to me.”

“I’m safe here, with you.” Jane blushed, biting her lip as Liara stretched tiredly, abs rippling under soft blue skin. “You don’t have to worry.”

“Hmmf.” Liara sniffed. “I don’t like you being on a warship, and I don’t like you being around the team. Jack’s been watching you since I brought her aboard.”

“I… I like it when you’re protective.” Jane blushed.

Liara smiled fondly and reached down, kissing Jane’s forehead. “I like being protective.” Jane whimpered and melted against her, nestling herself close against Liara’s chest and sighing as strong, loving arms closed around her. “I love you, Mrs, T’Soni.”

“I love you, Liara.” Jane mewed. A quiet gasp escaped her lips as Liara’s hands slipped down her spine, pausing briefly to unhook her bra and then moving to squeeze her hips. “Ah… L… Liara?”

“Let me take care of you.” Liara purred, voice low and soft and sultry. Jane quivered and bit her lip, nodding breathlessly. “Let me make everything better.”

Jane mewed as Liara’s fingers slipped between her thighs, cupping her sex through her panties and slowly probing her. Liara’s skin was soft and warm as Jane pressed against it, her lips gently beginning to worship every inch of blue she could reach.

The asari was more than experienced enough to make her wife a moaning, sopping mess in minutes, cradling Shepard in her lap as Jane desperately pressed against her, thighs spread and fingers clinging to Liara’s shoulders. She smiled at Jane’s quiet squeak as her fingers moved past her panties and rolled against her petals. “How’s that, baby?” she asked in a low purr.

“D… don’t stop… please.”

Jane moaned as Liara pushed inside her, obeying without question as her wife took her by the chin and tipped her head up. Liara made her wait for it, enjoying as Jane panted up at her before leaning down and pressing her lips to Jane’s. She tasted familiar and comforting, making Jane’s heart pulse happily in her chest. Her tongue pushed Jane’s down and then recoiled, the kiss breaking and leaving Jane to mew and pant for more.

Liara’s knuckles flexed inside her, her free hand snaked around her waist. She was hot and hard against her, muscles like a brick wall as Jane’s soft belly pushed snug against them. God she was so strong, and Shepard was so weak and small and submissive. As Liara’s hand squeezed her hip, pulling her tight against her and curling her fingers, it wasn’t hard to see how the Asari had dominated the galaxy. Beside them, humans were like children.

“O…oh… Liara.” Jane sobbed. “Liara pleeeease.”

“I could listen to those lovely whimpers all day long.” Liara crooned as Jane quivered in her lap. “Do you remember that night on Thessia, in my old home?” Jane trembled, images flashing in her mind of a small, cosy room still filled with Liara’s childhood memories. Of her wrists and ankles bound to the posts of Liara’s childhood bed. And of Liara standing, magnificent and statuesque, naked save for the long cock strapped to her hips.

She whimpered and nodded. “Y…yes?”

“Lie back.” Liara purred. Jane’s heart was trying to escape from her chest she was so excited, cooing breathlessly as Liara bound her hands and ankles with soft silk ribbons. Liara laughed at her and placed a loving kiss on her forehead. “You look delicious.”

“Liara… please.” Jane whined, feeling how slick her inner thighs were, her sex was aching for attention and Liara was happy to oblige. Jane squeaked as Liara’s tongue pushed against her opening, strong hands keeping hold of her thighs. “Oh goddess… yes… yes Liara.”

Liara chuckled from between her legs and kissed her inner thigh before returning to work. Jane’s back arched, toes curling and jaw tightening as Liara expertly explored her sensitive pink insides. She whined softly as Liara’s hands moved from her thighs to her waist, using the leverage to pull herself tight against her, nose resting in the neat patch of dark red curls Liara insisted Jane keep.

Jane whimpered, eyes rolling as she came closer and closer to climax. Her Asari wife was clearly enjoying devouring her cunt, low purrs and growls of lust echoing from the back of her throat as she crouched over Jane like a great blue cat.

“H… hah!” Jane gasped as teeth closed on her flesh, leaving behind a pair of pale, half-moons on her thigh. “Liaraaa!”

“You’re close, aren’t you?”

“Yes… don’t stop!” Jane mewed.

Liara grinned and clicked her tongue, tracing her finger around Jane’s puffy, sopping petals teasingly. “Say please.”

“Please Liara! Please let me cum.” Jane whined. “I love you so much, I love being your wife and your slut!”

Liara laughed and bowed down, sealing her lips over Jane’s sex and suckling. Jane let out a meek, breathless gasp of delight and came, her whole body tensing and then glowing with glorious release. She sighed sleepily and smiled as Liara played with her for a few moments before untying her. Soon she was nestled against Liara, her asari wife’s arms around her, cuddling her as she mewed in total submission.

Liara was the best thing to have every happened to her, her brilliant blue hero who would always take care of her, would always protect her.

-o-o-o-

Jane’s eyes snapped open and she sat up, alone in her cabin.

“What the fuck?”

Sweet Sad Savage.

The work is done. As The Queen delightedly finds her Beast has been broken into a meek, obedient plaything, Clea returns home with her Savage to find Marigold waiting. When she takes the poor thing in, Savage finally breaks, lashing out and leading to a confrontation with Clea.

-o-o-o-

Clea watched with a confident smirk as The Queen admired her handiwork, padding slowly around beast who was obediently standing, staring straight ahead and fiddling nervously with her fingers. The Queen gently slapped the magnificent woman’s rear, earning a low whine from her lips, before smiling and stroking her hands around her waist.

“Are you going to be good for me, Beast?” she asked softly, looking up at her new pet’s blushing face.

“Y… yes. Mistress.” Beast nodded, nibbling her lower lip as The Queen’s hands rolled over her rippling muscles.

“Will you obey me without question? No matter my command?”

“I… I will.” Beast croaked, “I am… your property… I am your… slave.”

“Very good.” The Queen smiled brightly, stepping back and giving Beast’s arse another sharp smack. “On your knees.”

Beast obeyed silently, sinking to her knees and nervously placing her hands between her muscular thighs to stop herself fidgeting. She watched with deep, dark eyes as The Queen slowly circled around and took her chin.

“From now on, your name shall be…” The Queen purred, pausing for a moment before smiling. “Christine.”

“Y… yes, mistress.” Christine nodded without complaint, blushing as The Queen stroked her cheek.

The Queen straightened up and flashed a wide smile at the assembled women, sweeping to where Clea and Ambrose were waiting and kissing them each on the cheek. “Wonderful work my dears, simply wonderful. I can’t begin to thank you properly.”

“It was our honour.” Ambrose blushed, caressing her cheek where The Queen’s lips had touched her.

“Of course, but you shall be rewarded nonetheless!” The Queen grinned. “We shall have a banquet tomorrow, I shall show my new pet off to the world, and you shall be my honoured guests!”

“We would be delighted to attend.” Clea smiled, cupping her belly and stroking it tenderly. “Though I’d like to go home before hand, the palace is truly wonderful but I feel rather homesick.”

“Of course, it will take some time to prepare in any case.” The Queen nodded, turning her head and biting her lip as she saw Christine kneeling and blushing quietly to herself. “I need to break in my new pet.”

“Ahem… yes… well I look forward to seeing you both tomorrow, if that’s the case.” Ambrose coughed, blushing as if she hadn’t throated Christine’s rod as often as she could over the past two weeks.

“Oh, Lady Marron, won’t you stay a little longer?” The Queen pouted, “You’ve put so much work into Christine, wouldn’t you like to try her out with me?”

Ambrose went bright red and she shook her head, spluttering. “N... No!”

The Queen looked surprised and raised a brow as Ambrose’s cheeks grew darker and darker until she finally managed to formulate an excuse, weak as it was. “I… I’m sorry, I couldn’t… possibly.” She said, “Not that I’m not flattered, your majesty. It’s only that… I… I am not… comfortable having sex with a… woman.”

The Queen’s brow arched higher. “Oh.” She said, eyeing Ambrose with curious suspicion. “Well I do apologise in that case, my dear. I must have misjudged your… interests. Though it seems a mite curious that you’ve trained my new pet so well without indulging in certain intimate acts.”

“Ah, that would be my part.” Clea said quickly, coming to Ambrose’s rescue with her usual composure. “See I have no such qualms. Dear Ambrose here was the proverbial stick to my carrot.”

The Queen looked between them suspiciously before sighing and regaining her smile. “I see, perhaps you will tell me of your methods some time.” She smoothed down her gown and wound Christine’s leash around her fist, tugging her to her feet. “In that case, I shall see you both tomorrow evening. I shall send the details as soon as I am able.”

“I will await your letter eagerly, your majesty.” Clea purred, taking Savage’s wrist and squeezing. “Until tomorrow.”

“Thank you.” Ambrose mumbled as they stepped from the office, walking the familiar path through the palace to the entryway. She ran a slender hand through her short hair, cheeks still flushed.

“Not a problem, my darling.” Clea smiled, walking a little ahead of her and putting an extra sway into her hips. “I keep my promises. Your secrets are mine to keep. Although…” she turned her head and flashed a sultry smile, “You could repay me.”

“Repay you.” Ambrose scowled; lips pursed. “I should have known not to trust you.”

“Oh come, Rosie.” Clea sighed, turning back to her and taking her hands. “I’m asking you to come home with me, not blackmailing you.” Ambrose sniffed and pulled her hands away, striding off down the hall. Clea pursed her lips and followed as best she could, catching her at the door.

“Clea.” Ambrose hissed, “Let go of my arm.”

“Rosie… please.” Clea pouted quietly, “haven’t these past few weeks been fun? Haven’t I proven that I truly want to be your friend?”

“I… appreciate your discretion, Clea.” She winced, “But your idea of friendship is not something I can afford to entertain. Subtlety is something you sorely lack and if I am seen to be close to you assumptions will be made… and that will lead to questions and even more scrutiny into my life than I must tolerate now. I must keep my secret; I cannot do that and maintain our… association.”

Clea recoiled, scowling. “Well… If that’s the case, there’s little point in trying to convince you otherwise.” She yanked on Savage’s leash and pushed past Ambrose, stalking towards her waiting carriage. She slapped Savage’s hands away as the girl tried to help her up into her seat, and glared at the wall, ignoring the pained, mournful expression lingering on her pet’s face.

There was an unexpected guest waiting for them when they finally pulled up in front of the house. 

“Annie, what is this?” Clea asked with a glare that made the young maid cringe.

“Miss Suzanne came by yesterday evening, ma’am.” She said quickly, presenting the leash wound around Marigold’s throat to Clea. “She asked if you would please take her in, as Miss Allian left her behind, and she cannot care for both her pets and this one.”

“Wonderful.” Clea sniffed, snatching up Marigold’s leash and tossing it to Savage. “Go get her bathed and dressed, I expect you both in my bed by supper.”

“Yes Mistress.” Savage nodded, watching sadly as Clea stormed past Annie and disappeared into the house. She sighed and hung her head, shoulders slumping. A soft hand pressed against her bicep and she glanced up, seeing Annie’s concerned expression.

“Is everything alright, love?” she asked, quiet Yorkshire accent as delightful as always. Savage forced a smile.

“Mistress is just… frustrated. She’s been very busy with her work.” She said, scooping up her own leash and squeezing Marigold’s against it in her palm. “I’m sure she’ll pay more attention to me once she’s had time to relax.”

“I hope so.” Annie winced, looking back into the house. “I haven’t seen her so angry before… she barely touched you at all as she came out the carriage. Maybe she just needs to let off some steam?”

“It’s not our place to complain.” Savage murmured, “Will ye please draw a bath for me and Marigold.”

“Marigold and I, miss Savage.” Annie corrected, earning an impatient growl from the towering redhead and promptly scurrying away. Annie had been Savage’s tutor, helping her twist her natural northern lilt into the speech of a proper young lady so as not to embarrass Clea at parties, but Savage was in no mood for a lecture.

-o-o-o-

She sighed miserably in the bathtub, the steaming water up to her knees as she sat, slowly washing Marigold’s golden locks and lathering in the same oils and perfumes that Clea enjoyed Savage’s hair to be scented with. The girl’s back was a patchwork of bruises, she trembled with every touch of Savage’s soft, gentle hands.

“Ye can speak, ye know.” She said quietly, letting her accent come through in the hopes it would put the little blonde at ease. “Mistress lets us do as we please when we are not serving her, as long as we behave.”

“And… if we don’t?” Marigold muttered.

Savage paused and rested her hands on her shoulders, tugging her back a little against her chest, pillowing her head with her breasts. “The worst punishment mistress has ever given me was a simple spanking and no release for a week. I spilled tea on one of her favourite books.”

“She doesn’t hit you?”

“Never.” Savage promised.

“She taught my mistress how to keep me in line.” Marigold scowled, hugging her waist in the water, enjoying the touch of Savage’s skin against hers despite herself. “But… she doesn’t hurt you.”

“I know it’s not my place to comment on a mistress, but from what I gather, Allian was a mean cunt.” Savage smiled, toying with some soft blonde hair as Marigold cuddled down against her. “Mistress only uses roughness as a way to make our pleasure greater. Ye’ll serve her like me, and she’ll take care of ye. Ye won’t want for nothing as long as yer a good girl.”

Marigold hummed quietly and rolled onto her front, hugging Savage’s chest as the older girl washed her back, both of their cocks stirring as they were pushed together. The blonde whined and bit her lip, nervously moving her hands up to take Savage’s waist. “You… you sired your mistress’ babies?”

“I… did, yes.” Savage murmured, biting back a moan as Marigold’s rod pushed against her.

“D… does she let you have sex with her a lot?”

Marigold was almost as awful at being subtle as Clea was. Savage pursed her lips and shifted in the water. “Mistress enjoys me whenever she pleases. The same will be true for you.” she reached out and continued to lather Marigold’s hair, biting her lip as the girl rubbed against her.

“Did you ever have sex before her? How old are you?”

Savage’s jaw bunched as she continued to scrub down her back with her soapy sponge. “I am twenty, and no, I had not made love to anyone before mistress.”

“What is it like?”

“I have no doubt you will find out soon.”

“What’s your name?” Marigold asked quietly, fingers sinking into the warm, welcoming flesh of Savage’s breasts.

“My name is Savage.” Savage growled, patience wearing thin. “Please stop touching my chest.”

“I mean your real name.” Marigold whispered. “Not the one your mistress made you take.”

Savage snarled and sat up, sending Marigold tumbling onto her back and a huge wave of water to splash out of the tub. She grabbed the girl’s cock in her fist and squeezed just hard enough to make her whine. “I am Savage. I am my mistress’ pet. And I am trying to make my home welcoming to ye, but ye clearly need to know who is in charge!”

Marigold whimpered beneath her and Savage realised just how hard her cock had become thanks to the little brat’s teasing. She bit her lip, fighting temptation and failing, it had been so long since she’d had release, almost a week since she’d been held in The Queen’s loving embrace and treated by her and her private pets.

“Mistress may own us both, but I am her favourite!” She hissed, planting her arms on either side of Marigold’s head, forcing her rod between her thighs. Her lips curled at Marigold’s terrified expression. It felt good to be in control again. To be powerful. She groaned and forced herself tight against Marigold, crushing her down into the tub and drawing a pained squeak from the girl. “I am strong and powerful and beautiful! I am the perfect slave for my mistress! I am everything she demands I be. I’m… I’m loyal and… I’m obedient and… I’m… I’m good for her… I’m a good girl.”

Marigold was squeaking beneath her, small hands clinging to Savage’s arms as she trapped her cock beneath her belly. Her pretty face was screwed up with pain, tears sparkled in the corners of her eyes.

Savage stopped, suddenly ashamed, and swallowed, pulling away and sliding from the bathtub, shivering in the cold air. She grimaced miserably and turned back to help Marigold, only to lock eyes with Clea.

“M… Mistress.” She croaked, voice dying in her throat. “I…”

“Silence.” Clea hissed, stepping quickly over the wet floor and helping Marigold up, taking her cheeks and inspecting her body. Her cool, pale eyes were softer than Savage had seen in months. She swallowed mournfully and bowed her head, looking down at her feet as Clea quietly fussed over Marigold.

“I’ll have Clara take care of all these bruises, and have Jeanie prepare a nice hot meal.” She was saying. “Then we’ll take you up to bed.” Savage’s heart sunk, she remembered when her mistress had spoken to her so softly and comfortingly, in the day after she was broken and enslaved to her for good.

-o-o-o-

“You’re smiling.” Clea purred, hand wandering down to Alar’s rump as they walked through the park. Alar blushed and brushed some fiery hair out of her face, looking down at her feet. Clea chuckled and shifted her grip, taking her arm and sighing. As usual she was dressed to impress, her finest clothes paired with elegant lace gloves and a dainty parasol that was resting over one shoulder.

Alar was dressed to show off as well, though in a very different way. Her throat was being squeezed by a thick, fur-lined leather collar, to which was connected her leash, held tight in Clea’s hand. She had been given simple sandals, and leather cuffs to be fastened around her wrists and ankles. They were comfortable, walking in nothing but them was less so.

“I… I was jus’ lookin at the flowers, mistress.” She mumbled shyly, biting her lip as Clea waved politely to a couple that passed, no doubt enjoying their looks of confusion and awe as they saw Savage.

“They are rather magnificent this time of year,” Clea agreed. “but that’s not what you were smiling about.”

“No mistress.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, my sweet darling Savage.” Clea purred. “You see submission is not so bad now, don’t you? You see that obedience will make your life happier?”

“I… I do, mistress.” Alar nodded quietly, “I will be a good girl for ye, I swear.”

“Will you do it as Alar, or as Savage?”

Alar blinked. “I… don’t understand, mistress.”

“I’m giving you a choice, my sweet.” Clea said softly, “You could keep your name, if you wanted. Or you could cast it aside and be my Savage. My prized pet.”

Alar nibbled her lip and thought. Part of her knew the choice was meaningless, either way she would be a slave… but another part was only thinking about which would make her new mistress happier. She blushed and played with her thumbs, “I… I’d like to be yer pet… mistress.” She said softly. “I’d like to be yer S… Savage.”

“Hmmm, I believe you dear.” Clea purred, a soft, pale hand caressing a freckled cheek. “Come, let’s sit a while under that tree.” Savage smiled and obediently followed Clea onto the grass, watching as her mistress lay herself down against the tree in the shade and settling herself down in her lap, happy and content in the warm summer air, enjoying the lazy movement of Clea’s pale fingers as they toyed with her hair.

-o-o-o-

“Would you care to explain yourself?”

Savage whined and shook her head, kneeling in Clea’s bedroom. Clea was perched on the edge of her bed in her underthings, Marigold was sitting mutely behind her, having been thoroughly pampered for the last few hours. Clea pursed her lips, pale eyes not moving an inch from Savage’s shivering form.

“No?” she breathed. “You have nothing to say?”

“No… mistress.” Savage mumbled.

Clea made a disgusted noise and stood, grunting with the effort, and waddling towards her. Savage winced as she came close. “What were you thinking!?” she roared. “How could you do something so vile!?”

“I…”

“You saw the bruises! You saw how that cow Allian hurt her!” Clea continued, ignoring her. “How dare you even think of making her life any harder!”

“I’m sorry.” Savage breathed.

“Not yet you’re not!” Clea snapped, turning on her heel and stamping back to the bed. “If it weren’t for the banquet tomorrow I’d have you whipped!”

Savage shifted on her knees and sniffed, earning a sharp glare from Clea. “Don’t you cry! You’ve no right.”

“I… yes… mistress.” Savage nodded, swiping at her eyes. “S… sorry mistress.”

Clea pursed her lips and sat down again, running a hand over her belly. She looked at Marigold who hung her head quietly, and then sighed. “Savage… Savage why are you crying?”

“I… I’m sorry mistress… I’ll stop…”

“No… dear… just tell me.” Clea said tiredly, pinching her brow. “I’ve already got one miserable pet; I don’t need another.”

Savage swallowed and wrung her hands together. “I… I’d never been in love, before ye took me from my home.” She said finally, voice small and quiet. “I’d never… kissed anyone, or made love, I’d never even held hands with someone I liked. There was never anyone I cared for… no one I wanted to do those things with.”

She glanced up and writhed uncomfortably as she saw Marigold and Clea’s eyes watching her. “When ye took me, when ye… broke… me, I suddenly had someone I could experience all those things with, someone I could… grow to care for.” She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “I… I learned so much from you, and I came to… I… I started…”

“What, Savage?” Clea asked softly.

“I fell in love with ye!” Savage whined miserably. “Ye were everything to me! Ye… ye took care of me, ye made love to me, ye showed me off to all yer friends. I was your favourite! But now ye don’t pay any attention! Ye don’t talk to me; ye don’t touch me… ye don’t even smile at me anymore.” She pouted and wiped her nose. “I thought… maybe I was more than just a toy. That maybe ye cared about me like I cared about you.”

“So, you hurt Marigold because you thought I was replacing you.” Clea said, tone cold but expression pained.

“No… I just… I was so desperate to feel in control again.” Savage croaked. “I wanted to feel like I felt before everything changed… when ye still loved me.”

“She didn’t hurt me, not really.” Marigold whispered. “I… I shouldn’t have teased her… I was touching her… she told me to stop but I wanted to feel good, I didn’t listen to her.”

Clea rubbed her face before sitting up and patting Marigold’s cheek. “You don’t have to make excuses, Sweet thing, you’re not to blame.” She beckoned Savage closer and ran her fingers through her hair as she knelt between her legs. “Have I truly been so cold?”

Savage didn’t reply, sniffling and trembling as Clea stroked her. Clea sighed and tugged her close, her cheek pressing against Clea’s immense belly. Clea was warm against her cheek, her touch delicate. She smelled just like Savage remembered.

“My sweet Savage… Perhaps I have been neglecting you of late.” She whispered. “What with Ambrose and her Majesty’s task and my labour coming closer every day… I suppose I have not been giving you the attention you need.”

She pursed her lips and tipped Savage’s head up, assuming a stern expression. “I am still angry, and you will be punished… but tonight I will attend to your every need.”

“Mistress I…” Savage began before being hushed by a finger.

“No more talk.” Clea said, reaching down and petting her cheek before taking Marigold’s hand and pulling her closer as well. “The two of you sweet young things must be taken care of and taken care of you shall be. So hush and let me work.”

Savage smiled weakly and took Clea’s hand, kissing her gently and earning a fond chuckle. “Marigold, my sweet, would you lay down some pillows for me?”

“I… yes miss Clea.” The blonde nodded, snatching up a pair of pillows from the bed and darting to Clea’s feet, setting them down and watching as Savage helped Clea sink down onto them. “Um… what should I do now?”

“Sit down.” Savage said softly, gently guiding her down onto the edge of the bed and sitting beside her, “Mistress will take care of us.”

“But… um, I don’t.”

“Marigold.” Clea said, voice a low, sultry purr. “Hush.” She pushed the girl’s thighs apart and stroked her hands over her skin to her cock. She was smaller than Savage, but still impressive, fitting neatly into Clea’s palms with her plump pink head poking out. Marigold let out a sweet little gasp and bit her lip, staring in amazement as Clea pushed her lips against her shaft.

Savage watched and petted her own rod, smiling as she watched Marigold’s face. The girl was cute, whimpering and mewing as Clea’s fingers danced over her sensitive flesh, her lips rolling up and down her pole, leaving her skin slick and shiny with her spit. Savage groaned and stroked herself, squeaking as Clea’s spare hand found her and closed around her cock.

“I’ve not forgotten you, my darling.” Clea hummed, licking her lips. “Have no fear.” She moved forwards and engulfed the first inch or so of Savage’s pulsing cock into her mouth, her lips slipping over the familiar length easily. Savage bit her lip and whined, reaching down and cautiously taking Clea’s hair and holding her as she bobbed back and forth, pausing every so often to flick at Savage’s head with her tongue and tease her with gentle pressure from her teeth.

She switched between the girls every minute, growing a little less composed with every switch. Soon not only was Clea’s chin dripping with her own spit, but both girls were whining, cocks thoroughly smeared with their mistress’s saliva and their own excitement. Clea paused for breath and wiped her mouth, flashing a lustful grin at the blushing pair above her.

“Not a bad start, loves.” She panted, caressing her pregnancy. “Who goes first?”

“Marigold.” Savage sighed, smiling. Her heart was throbbing in her chest as she slipped onto the floor and helped Clea rise so that she was bent over the bed, gorgeous legs straight and swollen belly just brushing the covers. Savage’s cheeks flushed as she knelt behind her mistress, hands resting on her hips. She mewed and caved to her desire, moving a hand to caress a fat pale cheek and pushing her face between Clea’s thighs.

“Oooh!” Clea breathed, surprised by the sudden presence of Savage’s tongue inside her. “Th… that’s it, darling. That’s the spot. Get me nice and wet for our new plaything.”

“M… mistress… may I kiss you?” Marigold whined, sitting cross-legged on the bed with her hands pressing down on her cock. She was red-faced and trembling, almost insane with need.

“Come here, my sweet.” Clea hummed, beckoning with a finger and purring as Marigold crawled to her, nervously sitting herself down and placing a chaste kiss on Clea’s lips.

Clea laughed and patted her cheek before drawing her into a deep, feral kiss. Marigold whimpered, cock pulsing, as Clea’s tongue invaded her mouth. She reached out and caressed the older woman’s cheeks as they kissed, heart fluttering with delight as she eagerly anticipated sinking her rod deep inside her new owner.

Behind, Savage tore herself away from Clea’s cunt, licking her lips and growling with lust. “Marigold… mistress needs to be fucked, get to work.”

“And what will you be doing, my dearest Savage?” Clea cooed, wiggling her hips a little. “How do you plan to ravish me whilst Marigold is taking care of my sex?”

“However ye desire, my mistress.” Savage replied, smiling happily.

Clea admired her with lust filled eyes and flashed a crooked grin. “Come around in front of me darling, let me see you.” Savage mewed and eagerly hopped onto the bed, taking position between Clea’s arms and giggling as her mistress winked at her. “You are such a magnificent creature.” Clea purred, taking her cock in one hand and squeezing.

“I… I’m so sorry for disappointing ye, Mistress.” Savage managed to whimper, panting as Clea’s fingers danced up and down her shaft. “I just… missed ye so much.”

“It will not happen again.” Clea growled quietly before smiling. “And I will never let you feel so alone again either.” Savage blushed with delight and moaned as Clea’s mouth slipped over her cock, hot and wet and loving. She released a muffled groan as Marigold excitedly pressed herself inside her sopping cunt, tongue rising and pressing against Savage’s length as it sat pulsing within her cheeks.

“Ohhhhhh.” Marigold whimpered, panting and clinging to Clea’s hips as she fully sheathed herself inside her. “Oh… god… it feels… wonderful!”

Clea’s giggle tickled Savage’s cock, drawing an equally delighted whimper from the redhead’s lips. Both older women supressed grins as Marigold mewed and began to thrust, making the sweetest little coos of arousal. Clea and Savage busied themselves with making up for lost time, Clea pouring all her talent and practice into worshipping Savage’s rod, and Savage petting her mistress’ head with all the affection she could muster.

They became so lost in pleasing one another that Marigold’s sudden squeak of orgasm came as a surprise. A low, happy whine escaping her lips as she fell onto the bed and stroked herself in a blissful stupor.

“I… suppose… it’s your turn.” Clea rasped, batting her lashes at Savage.

“May… may I have ye on top?” The girl asked meekly.

Clea pursed her lips in a sly smile and rolled a hand down her body. “I think that can be arranged.” Savage groaned as Clea mounted her, slipping down her shaft until she was sat in her lap. 

“Oh… god in heaven… I’d almost forgotten how… amazing you feel inside me, love.” she crooned, sitting and cupping her belly, basking in the heat of her pet’s cock buried deep inside her cunt. She reached up and freed her hair from its bun, sending long silver-blonde strands cascading over her shoulders. Savage smiled adoringly up at her and took her hips in her hands, stroking her pale flesh and mewing with delight as her mistress began to roll her hips.

“I love ye, mistress.” Savage moaned, guiding her mistress’ movement and staring up at the gentle ripple of her plump breasts. “I love ye… I love ye so much.”

Clea hummed, eyes closed and teeth clenched tight to hold back her moans. She took Savage’s wrists and squeezed, whimpering as the girl’s cock jumped inside her. “I… Love you too… my Savage.” A pale eye cracked open and she smiled. “Now stop this soft behaviour and fuck me like you mean it.”

“With pleasure, mistress.”

Savage straightened up and latched her lips onto Clea’s collarbone, leaving small pink marks whenever she moved on to a new patch of warm pale skin. Soon her mistress was whimpering with ecstasy, fingers raking through Savage’s hair and mouth open in a weak, helpless pant. Every touch of hot lips against her throat, a wet tongue against her skin, a strong hand caressing the roundness of her belly, it was driving her beyond any pleasure she’d felt in all the time she’d kept the magnificent barbarian girl as her pet. Savage seemed impossibly perfect inside her, filling every ridge and crevice of her sex with her rod.

“Oh… good lord.” She managed, before her orgasm hit her and knocked what precious little strength she had clung onto away. Savage’s seed erupted within her, spattering her walls and oozing from her petals in an oh-so-familiar way.

She fell panting onto her back, Savage’s strong, loving hands guiding her gently onto the mattress as she mewed with delight and let out one last sigh of contentment. Savage was nuzzling against her in a second, chin nestled in the mess that Clea’s hair had become, hand resting possessively over her stomach. Clea smiled and reached out, tugging Marigold against her on the other side, enjoying the hot, heavy breaths of her dearest pets before falling into a well-deserved sleep.

-o-o-o-

Annie opened the door with a nervous smile, looking up and down at the woman waiting alone outside. “May I help you, Ma’am?”

She was tall and thin, wearing a dark shawl over her dress. Her features were sharp and angular, her jaw tight and defined, her hair a shock of inky black. She smiled and her dark green eyes sparkled. “I was hoping to speak with Clea… Lady Lamont.” She said softly.

“I’m afraid Lady Lamont is unavailable.” Annie replied.

“I know it’s late, but I’m sure if you tell her that Ambrose is here to see her, she’ll…”

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but Lady Lamont is enjoying the company of her closest friends.” Annie scowled, impatient. “She’s given me explicit instructions to turn away anyone… no exceptions.”

The woman seemed surprised, “Her… closest friends.” She repeated quietly. “Of course… I see. I… I shall be on my way then.”

Annie pursed her lips, suddenly feeling sorry for the imposing stranger. “I… I could leave a message, ma’am.”

“No… no that’s quite alright.” The woman sighed, tugging her shawl tight about her chest and hurrying away into the night, cheeks burning with embarrassment. Annie watched her go and sighed, closing the door and glancing upstairs where the sound of sex was no longer echoing. Perhaps she should have let the woman in? No. No lady Lamont would be in no fit state to entertain after playing with her pets.

She sighed and rubbed her eyes. She’d tell Clea about her visitor in the morning. 

Zarya's Bunny.

In the middle of a summer heatwave the ladies of Overwatch and Talon retreat to Moira's home to enjoy the heat by her pool. With everyone out having fun, only Tracer is left inside, terrified that her friends will find out about her cock, at least until Zarya finds her and introduces her to her own 'equipment.'

-o-o-o-

“Oh, come on Lena.” Angela sighed, throwing her hands up in frustration. “It’s the middle of summer, and there’s a heatwave. Everyone is out there swimming!” She stalked around the desk, slinging her towel over one shoulder and putting her hands on her hips. She was wearing a small white one-piece that hugged her flesh tight, showing of her lovely curves and much more skin than was strictly appropriate given that she was technically at work. “You can’t tell me you want to stay in here whilst everyone has fun in the pool.”

Things had been quiet at headquarters the past few weeks and now a July heatwave had rolled over the city. The ladies of overwatch had made a call. They were not staying all day in a poorly air-conditioned bunker; they were going swimming. Somehow this decision had wound up with not just every female member of Overwatch heading out to a private pool at the residence of the head minister of genetics, but a number of their usual adversaries joining them. As Moira O’Deorain was so kindly opening her home to them, she’d taken the liberty of inviting her ‘friends’, and naturally Angela hadn’t complained, entirely wrapped around Moira’s long, slender finger as usual.

Lena flushed as Angela stared at her, squeezing her thighs together and folding her arms uncomfortably over her chest. “I… I just can’t, doc.”

“You’re being ridiculous. You want to go out there, you’re just embarrassed.” Angela said, patience wearing thin. “No one will care. No one will even mention it if you say it makes you uncomfortable.”

“Are you sure?” Lena scowled, “You don’t think the second Sombra sees me there won’t be a dozen pictures all over the internet? If I go out there everyone’s going to find out I’m a… a f… futa.”

Angela pursed her lips and sighed again, looking over Lena. She had at least managed to get the brit into her swimsuit, a cute orange bikini that was bulging at the front as Lena’s package twitched uncomfortably, now all she needed to do was convince her that no one would care she was packing in the first place. “No one will care, Lena, I promise. Moira’s a futa and she’s already out there! Do you think anyone will give you a hard time for who you are?”

“It’s not them.” Lena whined, cheeks darkening as she played nervously with the neck-mounted Chronal Accelerator she was trying out. It was a simple black choker with a greatly streamlined Accelerator set into the front, no larger than a coin. “I don’t trust Sombra or D.va not to let this out. I… I don’t want people to look at me differently, I like how things are for me now.”

“So, hiding yourself away is the answer.” Angela sighed. She shook her head and shifted her towel. “I can’t make you come out, but I promise if you do, no one will care.” She pushed past Lena and out into the little garden that surrounded Moira’s pool, grinning as the ladies called out and whooped as she showed off her swimsuit before diving into the water.

Lena bit her lip and hid herself behind the doorframe, watching the fun from around the wall, cock aching between her legs. God her friends were all so fucking gorgeous. She whined and shifted from foot to foot, watching as Angela popped back up out of the water and swam to between Moira’s long, pale legs, smiling up at her as the Irish geneticist sat at the edge of the pool and dangled her feet in the water. Moira’s sleek black one-piece did sport a prominent bulge at the crotch, the lump between her legs pulsing as Angela grinned up at her.

“Fuck.” Tracer whined, watching as Symmetra pulled herself up out of the pool and stretched, the perfect brown peach of her rear all but bare as the slim blue swimsuit disappeared between her cheeks. Widowmaker’s ass was equally mouth-watering, neatly squeezed into a small, plain bikini and pushed out as the assassin lay on her front and read a book, seemingly disinterested in so much as speaking to the women around her. 

That was the real reason she didn’t want to go out. The women of overwatch were some of the most stunning women on the planet, and tracer’s cock refused to acknowledge that they were her co-workers, and not potential playmates.

She was painfully hard by now. She groaned and reached down, pressing her rod down with her palms and whimpering as she saw Fareeha pose at the edge of the pool, chiselled brown body barely covered by her swimsuit, droplets shimmering against her breasts in the sunlight.

“Well, now what do we have here?” a low, sultry voice purred suddenly. it was deep, and thick with a Russian accent.

Tracer squeaked and grabbed herself, spinning to see Zarya towering over her, brow raised with curiosity. She was wearing a light blue top that looped around her immense breasts and tight blue shorts that came down to her upper thighs. Almost every inch of her impossibly muscular body was on full display, steely abs and tattooed biceps the very strongest in the world. Tracer swallowed as her cock jumped with excitement, staring up in horrified embarrassment at the woman twice her size.

Fuck. Zarya’s thighs were as wide as her tiny waist. Her biceps were as big as Tracer’s head. Lena could have comfortably curled up and slept in the pink-haired bodybuilder’s lap. She bit back a mew of arousal, cheeks burning, and took a step back, flattening herself against the wall.

“What are you doing, Oxton? Why do not join the fun?” Zarya asked, looking down at her with a concerned frown. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” Tracer stammered, “Nope, everything is fine! Great even! Never better luv!”

Zarya’s eyes wandered down over her body and rested on her hands, trying and failing to hide her throbbing cock from sight. The Russian raised her brow and put her hands on her hips.

“I see.” She growled, suddenly stern and humourless. “You disappoint me.”

“Wh… what?” Lena croaked, “I… I wasn’t… I don’t know what you’re t… talking about!”

“You were masturbating to our friends.” Zarya sniffed, shaking her head. “Shameful.”

“No… no I wasn’t!” Lena protested before groaning and letting go of her package, hugging her waist and staring down at her feet. “I… I was just watching. I want to go and join them but… well… I guess you can see why I can’t.”

“No.” Zarya frowned, “Why?”

Tracer frowned. “I… I’m a futa.”

“As am I, how does that make it so you cannot swim?” Zarya shrugged.

“Because no one knows.” Tracer whined, “And I’m afraid it’ll be embarrassing and… wait… wait what?”

“I am like you.” Zarya said, putting her hands on her hips. “I am not afraid of embarrassment, why should you be?”

“I… I didn’t know.” Lena mumbled, having a hard time not looking at Zarya’s crotch now.

“I do not try to hide.” Zarya smiled, “Nor should you.”

“But it’s different for you.” Lena said weakly, “You’re so confident and powerful. I’ve never been comfortable with… my penis.”

Zarya chuckled and flashed a comforting smile. “You do not appreciate what a gift it is! Here, show me!”

Lena’s cheeks burned as she slowly tugged her waistband down, biting her lip as her cock flopped out and sprung to attention. Its head was bright pink and already oozing a thick droplet of pre. Zarya leant down and gently took it in her immense palm, petting the feverish skin and humming. “A very nice cock, cute and small, like you.”

Tracer whimpered and clutched her hands together as Zarya carefully caressed her rod. “Ah… Z…Zarya it’s… sensitive.”

“Of course, it is, you do not properly take care of it.” Zarya tutted.

Tracer pouted. “I take very good care of it!” she protested indignantly. Zarya raised a brow.

“Keeping yourself clean and in good health is not all you must do to take care of yourself, Oxton.” She chided. “You must use it. or you will be like this, too sensitive and excitable.” She straightened up and tugged her shorts down. “You see, this is a cock that is well-loved by his mistress.”

Tracer whimpered, suddenly painfully hard as Zarya’s bitchbreaker flopped down between her knees. Her knees trembled and she let out a low whine, receiving an amused chuckle from Zarya in return. “You like?”

“So… big.” Lena mumbled. “How… how are you so huge!?”

“Ah, he is magnificent, isn’t he?” Zarya laughed, “Come! Say hello.” She tugged Lena closer and draped her length over Tracer’s rod, the weight alone drawing a low croon from the flustered brit’s throat. She rolled her hips, rubbing her cock against Zarya’s as the Russian grinned down at her.

She trembled, resistance crumbling, and sank heavily to the floor, legs falling out from under her and leaving her sitting, panting up at Zarya’s immense pole. “You’re so big.” She whimpered again, her cock desperately throbbing between her legs.

“I am glad you approve!” Zarya purred, petting her pole fondly and bringing it close to Tracer’s face, grinning as Lena’s eyes crossed to stare at it. “Here, give him a kiss.”

Tracer whined and opened her mouth, tongue lolling as she slipped her lips over Zarya’s plump, throbbing head. She tasted salty in her mouth, felt hot and thick and pulsed softly with Zarya’s heartbeat. She crooned and kissed the fat pink tip of the Russian’s immense pole, blushing sweetly as she made out with the stupidly huge pillar of cockmeat.

Zarya laughed at her submission and reached down, gently taking Tracer’s cheek and tugging her tighter against her cock. “Such eagerness!” She smiled, “It’s been so long since I last enjoyed such a cute little slut worshipping my flesh.”

Tracer’s blush only grew darker as Zarya softly petted her cheek with a thumb, continuing to pepper soft, shy kisses over the rod pushing against her lips. She’d never been called a slut before, never one to experiment to much in the bedroom. Lovemaking was a sweet, gentle affair in her book, but now here she was, slobbering over Zarya’s horsecock like…well, a slut. She’d never so much as touched another woman’s cock before, but apparently it felt fucking amazing.

Zarya hummed, pleased, but took Tracer’s ear and gently tugged her away, smiling down at her as she panted up at her. “Such a good cocksucker you are, кролик. But you'll need to get all of me nice and wet if you want me inside you.”

Tracer blinked up at her, cheeks burning with arousal. Was that what she wanted? Did she want Zarya to fuck her? Just minutes ago, she’d been terrified of the mere idea of her teammates knowing she wasn’t like them, now she was sitting in only her bikini top, cock rock-hard as she meekly serviced the biggest, fattest bitchbreaking cock she’d ever seen. How long was it? A foot? More? How would it feel pushing inside her poor little pucker? How would she look with such an impossibly huge cock nestled in her guts? How much boiling, churning, baby-making spunk was held in those titanic balls? How would it all feel shooting through her stupid, slutty, submissive body?

Lena sobbed with submissive delight and quickly locked her lips over Zarya’s head again, trying to slather as much of her spit over her as she could. Zarya chuckled and relaxed, content to leave Lena to her feverish cock-wetting. From her position she could just peek around the edge of the doorframe and see the team’s fun in the pool. D.va spotted her lurking in the shady office and called out to her.

Zarya laughed, feeling Lena freeze in terror at the sound. “I will join you in a moment. I am speaking with Oxton.” She reached down out of sight and forced Tracer’s lips around her head and along her shaft, making sure she kept working with a huge strong hand. “She is a little shy about her new swimsuit!”

“Come on Lena! We know you’ll look great as usual!” Fareeha laughed.

Tracer quivered, torn between terror and lust at the idea of any of them seeing her like this, kneeling and blushing and desperately trying to lube up Zarya’s pole with her spit so the Russian could ram it inside her. Her tongue ran its way from Zarya’s churning sack up over the underside of her rod, pausing to play over her head and scooping up the thick precum gathering there. Her hands were strangling her own cock, desperate to just start stroking herself until she blew her load but knowing that Zarya’s pleasure was much more important.

She spat on the waiting pink head of Zarya’s meat and forced herself to pull back, mouth dry and heart racing. Zarya took a moment to rub the wetness of her spit into her skin before smiling and reaching down.

Lena groaned as Zarya tugged her bikini top away, freeing her chest and smiling fondly at the soft little mounds of her tits, pinching a nipple and pulling Lena to her feet. “Come, кролик, we can’t have you screaming and inviting everyone to see what a submissive little slut you are!” Tracer whined as Zarya took her cock in her hand, the pressure almost enough to blow her load, “Come along.”

“W…wait… Zaryaaaa.” She whined as the Russian led her away into a small storage room to the side of the office. Zarya just laughed as Lena locked the door, biting her lip as she turned back to see Zarya sitting against the wall, waiting patiently for Lena to come spear herself. “I… I’ve never done this before.” she mumbled, stalling and pressing down on her rod.

“Then it will be a new experience!” Zarya grinned cheerfully. “Come, I’ll be gentle.”

Tracer staggered closer in a daze, knees trembling as she moved closer, slowly stepping around Zarya’s legs until she was stood straddling the pink-haired amazon’s waist. Zarya’s face was framed by her cock, bright blue eyes admiring her slim, svelte form from down beneath her. As Lena stood, Zarya’s rod was pulsing just above her knees, if she sat, and it drove all the way into her, the immense thing’s head would sit neatly between her heaving breasts.

“Take my hands, кролик.” Zarya said, voice low and soft and comforting. Lena swallowed, blushing at just how gentle Zarya was being, like she was some doe-eyed virgin scared of her first time, rather than a blushing, achingly hard slut craving to be stuffed full of girlcock. She smiled as Zarya squeezed her hands and shifted her footing, bringing herself down against the head of her rod. It was feverishly hot, slick from Zarya’s pre and Lena’s spit. Its broad head pressed against her opening and drew a scared whimper from her lips.

“Oh, fucking hell.”

Zarya chuckled and shifted her grip, slipping her hands from Lena’s and planting them on her hips. She raised a brow as Lena squeezed her eyes shut and sighed. “don’t worry, кролик. It won’t hurt.”

“But…” Lena whined, voice dying in her throat as Zarya tugged her down sharply, strong arms easily forcing Lena down, her sweet, virgin pucker stretched as wide as her fist as it was pulled down over Zarya’s head, slipping closed a little as it cleared the plump pink glans. Lena’s cock jumped with excitement even as she howled in mixed pain and delight, tongue lolling as tears sparkled in her eyes. “Fucking bollocking hell!” she managed after a moment. “Fuck! Fuck it’s so fucking big you fucking Russian whore!”

“Hush, кролик.” Zarya cooed, biting her lip as Tracer’s delightfully tight rear squeezed her. “You do not want to be found, do you?”

“N… No.” Lena croaked before being pulled another inch down, she grunted weakly and went limp, hands holding her belly as Zarya’s bitchbreaker sat nestled inside her. “Oh fuck… it feels so fucking good.”

Zarya purred and took a firmer grip on her thighs, slowly forcing Lena down over her cock and admiring the bulge it made in her sweet little stomach. By the time Lena was half-way down she looked a few months pregnant thanks to Zarya’s immensity. She was groaning weakly, eyes rolled back in her head and tongue lolling in a breathless pant. The Russian smiled slyly and dug her fingers into Lena’s soft thighs, the shy little slut was already mostly fuck-broken, she may as well get her fully sheathed before the real fun began.

Tracer’s mind was drifting somewhere far away from the compound, revelling in just how amazing being Zarya’s cocksleeve felt, when suddenly she was yanked downwards. Lena let out a whoop of surprise, then a long, low mewl of ecstasy as Zarya’s pulsing rod sat comfortably deep in her guts, it’s head hot and twitching somewhere up in her ribcage. For an anatomical impossibility, it felt fucking amazing.

Amazing enough to push poor Lena over the edge. Zarya cooed happily as her abs were spattered in Tracer’s spunk, her sweet little cock pulsing and spewing a few ropes of pearly cum onto her belly. She smiled and patted Lena’s hips fondly, taking in the delicious sensation of her body squeezing on her shaft. She shifted, sitting up and stroking a hand up over Lena’s waist before grabbing her by the throat and squeezing.

Lena’s already red face grew even darker as her bright eyes rolled down to see Zarya’s grin, her hands meekly taking Zarya’s wrist and holding onto her for support. She croaked breathlessly as Zarya’s free hand lifted her rump up a few inches, before releasing a dull grunt of delight as she was slammed back down.

She was helpless in the best way as Zarya began to bounce her, the Russian’s mighty hips bucking up into her in time with every drop of Tracer’s ass onto her prick. Zarya’s groans of delight mixed with the wet coos and gurgles escaping Lena’s lips, filling the little closet and drifting through into the office outside. Zarya had never much cared for subtlety, in fact the exhibitionist streak running through her welcomed the idea of someone discovering her breaking the cute little hero. Lena was far too preoccupied being fucked into insanity to even remember that there were people outside the closet.

Zarya released her, hand moving to toy with her tit. Lena panted, finally able to suck in enough air so her head stopped spinning. “F… fuck… god, you’re so big, Zarya.” She croaked, reaching out and steadying herself against Zarya’s chest. “Fuck me more! Ruin me!”

Zarya laughed and patted her cheek. “See, no need for shyness! Have fun!”

“God, I don’t want fun, luv.” Tracer whined, biting her lip. There was a fire burning inside her now, something raw and feral deep in her psyche clawing to get out. Another sharp thrust deep into her broke what little resistance she had, and she squealed. “I want you to break me! I want to be your whore! I want you to fucking destroy me!”

“Haha!” Zarya grinned, “Yes! Just so!”

“Collar me! Leash me! Keep me as your fucking pet Zarya!” Tracer pleaded madly. “I’ll do whatever you want for as long as I live as long as you keep fucking my ass!”

“You want to be my pet, кролик?” Zarya cooed, enjoying how cute Lena looked now she was broken and craven, only concerned with her own total submission. “I already have a sweet little kitten; you would have to share.”

“I… I don’t care.” Lena whined, tugging at Zarya’s top and trying to free the fat, heavy orbs of her tits. “I’ll be your slut; you can use me whenever you like! I’ll be better than what other cunt you have now! I swear!”

“Watch your tongue, кролик.” Zarya growled, taking her chin and squeezing. “You are cute, but I love my other pets dearly.”

Lena whimpered and bowed her head, biting her lip as Zarya pulsed inside her, dangerously close to blowing her load. “I’m sorry Zarya, I’ll… I’ll share. I just… need you inside me so bad. I’ve never been fucked by a real futa before.”

Zarya laughed, taking her hips and hoisting her up until she almost slipped off the end of her rod. “You think you are not a real futa? What is this sweet thing then?” she pinched Tracer’s swollen head gently, earning a mewl of arousal from the smaller woman.

“You’re so much bigger than me.” Lena cooed, “You’re so much stronger and more powerful and… and virile… and… eek!”

Zarya brought Lena crashing down just in time to hit her orgasm on the way down. Lena slammed down against her hips and groaned as Zarya’s boiling seed exploded into her guts, coursing through her body and filling her completely. She twitched delightedly, cupping her swelling belly, shot one last rope of her own cum onto Zarya’s stomach, and passed out.

-o-o-o-

“Lena!” Mei grinned as Tracer appeared, “You came out! We were worried we wouldn’t see you!”

“Ah, Oxton was just shy, weren’t you, кролик?” Zarya laughed, slapping tracer on the back hard enough to make her stumble.

“Y… yes.” Lena whimpered, blushing head to toe. “J… just a little self-conscious is all. Never been around you lot without me kit on.”

“Well you’re looking good!” Bridgette grinned, appearing over the edge of the pool. “Come on in!”

“N… no, thanks. I… uh, I’m gonna sit and catch some sun.” Lena smiled weakly, making her way on shaking legs around the pool. Zarya allowed her to leave her grasp without complaint, stepping herself to the edge of the pool and dropping in with a splash.

“Oh!”

Lena jumped, mind immediately jumping to the horrifying conclusion that she’d missed some of Zarya’s spunk on her rear and that her new shameful submission to the fat-cocked Russian badass was about to be revealed. She’d completely forgotten her insecurity about her cock.

D.va blushed and looked away. “S… sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I didn’t realise you were… you know…”

“Tracer’s packing?” Sombra asked, immediately perking up from her towel by the poolside. She flashed a crooked grin and straightened up. “London’s hero, a girlcocked freak?”

“Olivia.” Moira barked, immediately making Sombra cringe and look away as the tall, thin Irish woman tore herself away from Angela’s loving attention. “Watch… your… mouth.”

“Y… yes ma’am. Sorry ma’am.” Sombra muttered, humiliated.

Tracer smiled and caught Moira’s eye as the geneticist turned away from Sombra. The ginger tilted her head slightly, mismatched eyes flashing down to the bulge in Tracer’s swimsuit, before she returned to lazily dragging her long fingers through Angela’s hair.

Lena sat down beside Symmetra and smiled to herself, looking around the women of Overwatch. Angela had been right; things weren’t going to be any different because her teammates knew what she was. Everything would be fine.

She swallowed, eyes landing on Zarya as the Russian smiled, leaning back in the water and curling her lip as she saw Tracer’s blush. The heat of her new partner’s sperm was glowing inside her even now, the taste of it lingered on her tongue. She whimpered softly to herself and put Zarya’s bitch-breaker out of her mind, stalling her erection and ignoring the wetness oozing from her thoroughly conquered asshole.

She shivered despite the heat and bit back a lustful sigh, wondering if Zarya would take her up on her broken pleading, or if she would think it was all a cute joke. If she didn’t, how long would it take her to take advantage of her? How long would it be before her hands were on Lena? Choking her? squeezing her? Moving her like a doll before shoving her full of fat, superior cockmeat?

Tracer quivered with arousal and wondered who Zarya’s other pets were.

And when she would meet them.

Spookfest 2019

It's Halloween. Monster season. The single spookiest time of all. It's a season to celebrate the things that go bump in the night, and to shine a spotlight on the things that do more than just bump.

A young vampire's kill is interrupted by a big futa werewolf who steals her prey out from under her. Trying to fight the mystical mutt leads to her sisters beaten to a pulp, and her stuffed full with werewolf spunk.

-o-o-o-

The cold night’s silence was broken as two girls stepped out from a tiny little club, walking out onto the street before moving to a dark, secluded area of the car park. One was small, petite and shy, wearing a nice shirt and jeans, with a pair of thin-rimmed glasses perched on her face. Her hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail and was a dull boring brown. The other was tall, thin and a little aethereal. Her pale skin, high cheekbones and dark eyes made her look out of place, as did the tight black clothes she was wearing. she swiped back some long, straight black hair and smiled, sharp heels clacking against the pavement as she walked.

“Where are you taking me?” Amy giggled drunkenly, pattering along behind Vanessa as the tall, pale girl led her through the cool night air to a place left dark by the streetlights. It wasn’t like her to be led along like this, but she’d had a lot to drink and Vanessa was absolutely stunning. She mumbled a quiet complaint and pulled her hand free, blushing anxiously as Vanessa turned back and scowled.

“S… sorry… I just need some air.” Amy said quietly, brushing some mousy brown hair behind her ear. It was cold out, and she shivered uncomfortably, Vanessa sighed and pulled out a cigarette.

“Sure, whatever.”

“I… um, it’s a nice night.” Amy offered shyly. “A little cold maybe?”

“I hadn’t noticed.” Vanessa sighed, taking along draw before blowing a plume up into the air.

“Vanessa, um, it’s not… that I don’t want… this.” Amy stammered, her panic only rising as Vanessa ignored her. “You’re so pretty and… nice and… well… I guess I just don’t know you. I’ve never… really done this before.”

Vanessa’s eyes finally fixed themselves onto Amy’s, sinking deep into her, like she could see all the way into her mind. She smiled, and it was the most beautiful thing in the whole world. “It’s alright, Amelia.” She purred, “you don’t have to be nervous; I’ll take care of you.”

“T… take care.” Amy nodded, blinking slowly as Vanessa pushed her against the wall of the bar, her dark eyes lingering over her chest and collarbone, moving up to her throat. She looked around for an instant before licking her lips and moving closer. “You’re… gonna… gonna take care of my pussy?”

“Hmm? My aren’t you a harlot under all ov that shyness?” Vanessa cooed, her voice sounding different, her accent changed to something European. “You vant me to take care of your pussy?”

“You’re… so pretty.” Amy blushed, “And… you took me out here, in the dark. So, we could have some privacy?”

“That I did, my dear.” Vanessa’s lips brushed against Amy’s cheek before she nipped her ear, letting out a playful giggle before continuing to kiss her way down over Amy’s throat. A hand stroked up Amy’s thigh to between her legs, suddenly pushing up against her sex, coaxing a whimper of delight from the oblivious girl.

Vanessa’s fangs were wet by her tongue as she gave Amy one last kiss, purring with the anticipation of the kill… and a good meal.

A hand landed on her shoulder and suddenly she was flying through the air. She landed with a disgruntled yowl and scrambled to her feet, snarling at the newcomer who had interrupted her feast.

The woman was taller than both of them and built like a brick wall. Her hair was a short, choppy mess of gold, as she smiled, sharp fangs could be seen. She wore a pair of jeans that were straining against her musculature, and a brown leather jacket with no sleeves and nothing underneath. Her chest heaved with excitement as Amy squeaked, taking her by the jaw and pushing her nose tight against her cheek. Vanessa growled, baring her fangs as the newcomer grabbed her prey by the hip and yanked her tight against her impressive physique. As she turned to look at Vanessa, the vampire could see her shining golden eyes.

She fucking hated werewolves.

“Sorry hon, were you gonna eat this?” The wolf growled, flashing a toothy grin before smacking Amy’s ass hard. “Think I’ll ave’ her instead, yeah?”

Vanessa scowled and stood, staring down the immense woman as her hand continued to explore the fat peach of Amy’s rump. “Get off my meal, mutt.”

“Come make me.” The wolf laughed, hoisting Amy up and draping her over her shoulder, kicking and crying out for help all the while. She grabbed her package and squeezed. “Been needing to let offa little steam, you know? Mating season an’ all. This nice little piece’ll do a treat.”

“She is mine.”

“I say otherwise.” The wolf cooed teasingly. “What’re you gonna do?”

“I vill Drain you dry.” Vanessa hissed, slowly pacing forwards, heels clicking with each step.

The wolf smirked and patted Amy’s butt again. “That’s what this one’s for.”

“Ssssister?”

Vanessa sighed, rolling her eyes. She’d hoped this little incident would have gone unnoticed, but it seemed her luck really was shit tonight. Two other girls stepped out of the mist, pale and dark-haired and dressed in tight leather. “Vat is this?”

“Ah, you’ve gotta family with ya.” The wolf grinned, putting a hand on her hip and admiring the trio. “What, little newturned can’t hunt on her own?”

“I vill show you how vell I can hunt!” Vanessa snapped, leaping towards the wolf, flanked by the twins. The wolf dropped Amy, who fell to the ground with a surprised shriek, and snarled. She easily sidestepped Vanessa before tackling one of her sisters to the ground. Laughing she pinned the squirming vampire with an immense arm swatting the other sister aside with the other.

“Filthy beast!” Vanessa shrieked, leaping forwards.

“C’mon you skinny punks.” The wolf cried with delight, smacking Vanessa to the ground with her own sister, still stuck in her grasp. “Put up a fight!”

One of the sisters managed to leap onto her back and sank her fangs into the wolf’s shoulder, drawing a shout of pain before the wolf’s other hand reached back and grabbed her by the hair, swinging her head-over-heels off her shoulder and onto the floor.

“Where’s mommy, little bat?” the wolf cooed, fists clenching around each sister’s throat and making them squeal with pain. “It’s no fun without a challenge.”

“You can’t kill us.” Vanessa hissed, swiping some of her own blood off her face and tasting it curiously.

“Decapitation, right?” the wolf smirked, squeezing her sisters. “I’ll pop their heads clean off… unless you can convince me not to?” She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

“You cannot be serious.” Vanessa groaned, watching her sisters twitch helplessly, nose wrinkling as the prospect of ‘convincing’ the werewolf.

“Wrap those cute little undead lips round’ my cock, and maybe you won’t wind up an only-child.” The wolf purred, spotting Amy crawling away and slamming a bare foot down on her back, trapping her. “I’m waaaaiiiiiting.”

“Filth.” Vanessa spat weakly before crawling up to the wolf and unbuttoning her jeans. The beast’s manhood flopped out over her palms as she drew it out, twitching with anticipation of a good tongue-bath. Vanessa wrinkled her nose at the smell, eyeing the fat, veiny pole and the thick golden curls crowning its base.

“Give it a taste hon.” The wolf said, jerking her hips and slapping the thing against Vanessa’s pale cheek. The young vampire whined but obediently licked the side of the shaft before locking her lips over it and beginning to drag her face up and down it. “Atta’ girl.”

Vanessa whimpered at the taste, as potent as the wolf’s musk. It was making her head feel fuzzy, in her pants she was damp and pulsing with arousal. Above her, her sisters watched with disgust as she reluctantly took the head of the wolf’s cock into her cheek, drooling despite herself as it pushed against the inside of her mouth. She swallowed, whined with humiliation and confused lust, and inhaled the cock again, feeling the throbbing cockmeat push down her throat.

“Doin’ great hon.” The wolf laughed, purring happily as Vanessa throated her, neck bulging as she inched ever closer to the coarse golden curls at the wolf’s base. Not needing to come up for air was a definite advantage as Vanessa mindlessly forced herself forwards, panties dripping with her own nectar as she squatted and gurgled wetly. “Wonder if your sisters are as good cockwarmers?”

Vanessa sniffed and gurgled vaguely in reply, finally feeling the wolf’s hair against her lips and blushing with humiliation. “Good girl.” The wolf moaned softly, “Now let’s get down to the real work.”  Vanessa’s sisters landed with a thump against the wall, unconscious. Before Vanessa could even begin to contemplate fighting back, the wolf’s hands had her head, crushing her tight and messing up her hair. She pulled her hips back, Vanessa whining as the pillar of meat slid from her throat before letting out a muffled yelp as the wolf slammed herself forwards again.

“You know this…” she grunted, pounding her hips back and forth into Vanessa’s gullet. “Is exactly what I needed.” She flashed a toothy grin down at Vanessa’s pale face, drinking in her watering eyes and cute little whimpers. Her claws gently scraped at Vanessa’s pale skin, 

“A nice wet mouth around my cock.” She sighed, “Just perfect. You know I always get so antsy around mating season… restless… insatiable. Hunting’ll stave it off a little but what I really need…”

Vanessa let out a strangled squeal as the wolf throbbed inside her and spewed about a pint of searing-hit cum into her belly. Vanessa hadn’t eaten anything but blood for almost a decade, her stomach did not agree with the change after so long. As the wolf yanked herself free of Vanessa, the entirety of her load shot back up the vampire’s throat and poured out of her mouth and nose.

“Yeah… that’s what I need.”

Vanessa blinked with stunned confusion before she was knocked to the ground, whining uselessly and rolling onto her front. Suddenly the wolf was on top of her, snarling at her, breath hot against her face. “Not done yet, hon.”

Vanessa hiccupped and oozed sperm onto the hard ground, too dazed to move as the Wolf’s grip vanished, yanking her pants down to her ankles. 

“Never got why humans find you vamps so hot before.” The wolf growled into her ear, “But damn, this arse is fucking sublime.”

Vanessa would have shot back with a very witty retort, had her mouth not still been filled with sperm and her face mashed down into the concrete floor. She let out a muffled whimper as the searing hot tip of the wolf’s cock pushed against her rear. “No point goin’ for the other hole, can’t knock up a corpse, can I?” She rasped into Vanessa’s ear, teeth gently biting down on her flesh just enough to leave little dents in her before she pulled back.

Vanessa gurgled weakly as the Wolf’s arms planted themselves on either side of her waist and slammed herself forwards. A low whine of pain escaped the poor young vampire’s lips as she was thoroughly stretched by almost a foot of throbbing werewolf cock.

“Fuck you’re tight.” The wolf groaned, pressing her nose down against the back of Vanessa’s head, her breath hot against the vampire’s cool skin.

“G…et… on… with… it.” Vanessa managed to croak, earning a sharp smack to her cheek in response. The wolf grabbed her head and pushed it down into the pavement, as her other took her hip and used it as leverage. The first thrust was hard enough to shut Vanessa up for good, all sense knocked from her as the cock buried itself in her guts.

Dark eyes crossed as the wolf set to work, moaning and panting like a dog as she enjoyed fucking her new bitch. Vanessa wasn’t a virgin, not even an anal virgin, Vampires fucked like rabbits as it was pretty much the only pleasure they could find outside of a good kill, but she had never taken anything as fucking immense as the werewolf.

“Christ… that hits the spot.” The wolf crooned as she moved her hips, biting her lip as Vanessa whimpered beneath her. Her bright gold eyes almost shone in the low light as she pounded the full pale ass beneath her. The fire in her blood was finally cooling as she fucked the young vampire’s fat, pale ass. Heat was an annual annoyance, but it was always a good time to take care of her biological urges.

She hooked her hands around Vanessa’s hips and yanked her upwards, easily manipulating her limp form until the young vampire was locked in a full nelson, panting and moaning as she was assfucked into oblivion.

Vanessa’s eyes rolled in her head as the wolf bounced her, mind blank and tongue lolling past her fangs. Her breasts were torn free of her shirt, pale mounds left to ripple and shake in the cool night air. The thrusts into her were growing all the more ferocious, all the more feral. Vanessa was a ragdoll in her arms, helpless to resist, and shamefully excited by it, despite herself.

The wolf howled with delight as she blew her load, the steaming-hot sperm coursing through Vanessa’s cold dead body and erupting form her lips, splattering her chest as she wheezed vaguely and dropped to the floor with a wet splat.

The wolf sighed and stepped back, admiring the carnage for a moment before brushing herself down and neatly folding her cock back into her pants.

“Well… that was an experience.” She sighed, scratching her short, spikey gold hair. She grinned, admiring just what a mess she’d made of the vampire, “You’re not a bad lay.”

She looked around and saw Amy, sitting staring between the two unconscious vampires with an expression of stunned horror on her face. Poor thing probably hadn’t seen a vampire before, let alone a werewolf. She’d probably thought it was all just fairy-tale.

She smirked and strutted over, lifting the girl up to a surprised squeak. “Yeah, didn’t forget about you. don’t worry.”

“Please don’t eat me!” Amy whimpered, earning a soft pat to her rear.

“Nah, you’re too pretty to eat.” The wolf sighed. “You, sweetheart, are dessert.”

She shouldered Amy and smiled to herself, stepping on Vanessa as she sauntered away. “Thanks for playing, hon!”

A few hours later, three vampires limped back into their lair, one being carried between the others. They were met by their matriarch, and had a difficult time explaining not only why they looked as if they had been trampled but why one of them stank of werewolf spunk.

Vanessa groaned to herself in her coffin that night, nursing her aching rear and whining as she felt the hot, wetness of the wolf’s cum still slowly oozing from her. She’d heard her sisters giggling about her behind her back to the other new turned. No doubt the story would be twisted from them being swatted aside like flies and Vanessa having to debase herself for their safety, to her being a werewolf’s willing bitch.

Well they’d see soon enough.

She was going to make that wolf pay.

The Bat and The Bird. Chapter Two

A few days after their rooftop affair, Harper is visited by Kate who invites her to move into her home. A desperately submissive Harper agrees and enjoys the first night of her life as Kate's personal fuck-pet.

-o-o-o-

“What? Fuck no!”

Harper paused in her apartment, stopping and setting down the stack of laundry onto the old broken chair standing by the window into her dank little home. She switched her phone to her other ear and scowled out of the window. “You know I couldn’t afford college even if I wanted to go, why are you asking that?”

She raised a brow and eyed a nice car that had just pulled up outside the building. “Wayne? Why the fuck would he pay for me to go?”

“I’m not asking for charity… Sure the guy paid me for that work I did… Cullen I’m not going to waltz up to Bruce fucking Wayne and ask him to pay for me to go to college.”

There was a knock at her door, and she swore, “Look… no… look Cullen I’ve got someone at the door I’ve gotta go. Yeah… yeah you take care too.” She sighed and snapped the phone shut, slipping it into her pocket and stepping up to the door.

She froze as she swung it open, looking up at the pale woman standing over her. She was beautiful and a little bit scary, with paper-white skin and bright scarlet hair cut into a short bob. She was dressed casually, jeans and a plain red shirt under an old leather jacket, but Harper didn’t doubt the woman’s shoes alone would have paid a few weeks rent for her.

“Who are you?” she asked, frowning defensively.

The woman raised a brow behind her dark sunglasses, looking Harper over before sighing and offering a small smile. “Kate Kane.”

“Harper Row.” Harper replied simply. “What do you want?”

“To talk about your training.”

Harper frowned, confused, before realisation dawned and she gasped. “Oh! Oh fuck! I’m sorry I didn’t…”

“It’s alright.” Kate smiled, “May I come in?”

“Yeah! Yeah come in!” Harper nodded quickly before gasping again. “Wait… no! I… oh… fuck.” She groaned as Kate turned back to her, looking confused. Harper swore under her breath and shut the door. “S… sorry about the mess.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Kate replied calmly, sitting on Harper’s bed and looking around her room. Harper’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. She tried to kick some dirty laundry out of sight under her work desk.

“So… Kate Kane.” She said lamely, “Um… any relation to Cass?”

“Different Canes.” Kate said, shaking her head. She took off her sunglasses and hooked them over her shirt. “I had a little trouble tracking you down, aren’t you supposed to be living with a foster family up north?”

“My brother is.” Harper shrugged awkwardly, “We got emancipation from our dad but… I can’t take care of him, not really. I used to work with Gotham electric, but we were only scraping by and then… he got attacked and I lost my job, so…” she trailed off and folded her arms uncomfortably over her chest. “It’s better this way, he’s better off.”

She sat next to Kate, trembling as a soft pale hand slipped around her shoulders. “You said he was attacked?”

“He’s gay, they came into our home and cut his hair, carved ‘fag’ into his head.” Harper sniffed. “I was wasting time at some stupid fucking Wayne gala, stealing desserts whilst the rich cunts talked about tearing this place down.”

“Is that why you do what we do?”

“Nah. I just wanted to help.” Harper smiled weakly, blushing as Kate’s fingers toyed with the light fuzz of hair at the back of her scalp. “Even saved the big guy’s life.”

Kate smirked. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“Why would he? He’s batman.” Harper grinned, pleased to have earned a laugh, “Getting saved by some narrows kid probably bruised his ego some.”

Kate laughed and nodded, pulling Harper close and kissing the top of her head. “I came to see who you are out of the mask, and to show you who I am.”

“Do you like what you see?” Harper hummed coquettishly, hand toying with the neckline of Kate’s shirt.

“Always, sweetheart.” Kate purred, petting her chin fondly. “But this place isn’t good for you.”

“What do you mean?” Harper scowled, “Just cause I’m not living in a fucking penthouse?”

Kate growled softly, taking her by the jaw and squeezing. Harper whimpered, instantly submissive, staring up at her lover’s dark eyes. “You cannot operate out of this place. You have nowhere to store your equipment safely, you cannot properly maintain it, you cannot train, you cannot become better.” She said firmly before sighing and petting Harper’s cheek. “I’d like you to come live with me, my place has all the space and equipment you could need.”

She pushed a soft kiss onto Harper’s trembling lips, “And of course, I could continue your other education at my leisure.”

Harper’s resistance melted with a whimper, her hands taking Kate by the hips as she was pushed down onto her bed and felt a thigh spread her legs. Kate’s lips were hot against her skin as she was lain on her back, trembling as long pale fingers roamed under her shirt and drew it up over her head. She let out a soft gasp as those bright red lips explored her naked flesh, and as those fingers undid her bra and tossed it across the room.

“Batwoman… K… Kate?” Harper mewed. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.” Kate breathed, toying with a nipple. “The door’s shut, no one can hear you.”

“T… the walls are kinda thin.”

Kate paused, lips against Harper’s earlobe, before sighing. She moved and pressed a finger to Harper’s lips. “Then shut up.” Harper pouted and then gasped as a pale hand slipped under her jeans and pressed snug against her panties.

Kate’s finger moved aside and joined the others to caress her cheek as an immaculately manicured thumb slipped between her lips. Harper’s body rolled submissively as Kate probed her pussy, she was so eager to be pleased, so eager to show how much she loved Kate’s touch. She’d never felt like this before. Never felt so submissive and desperate for approval. Kate’s perfume made her knees go weak. Her touch made her tremble. Her taste made her melt.

Her lashes fluttered as Kate’s fingers slipped past her panties and deep inside her, mouth still plugged by Kate’s thumb. Her fingers were clinging to Kate’s jacket, holding onto dark leather for dear life as expert precision brought her to a soft, quiet orgasm that left her blushing shyly up at her new lover.

Kate slipped her hand from her cheek to her chest and placed a soft kiss on her quivering lips.

“Come live with me, Harper Row, and I won’t just make you a better hero, I’ll make you a whole new woman.”

Harper whimpered and nodded immediately.

-o-o-o-

“No patrol tonight Batwoman?” Oracle asked, watching as Kate hammered at a training dummy, making the whole thing shake before sending it spinning across the floor with a particularly vicious kick. 

“Not tonight.” Kate sighed, brushing her hair back behind her mask. “Tonight, we’re training.”

“We?”

“Harper isn’t good enough to be out in the field alone and Bruce is too busy with the nine other kid protégé’s he’s adopted this week.” Kate sighed, picking up the dummy and slinging it over against the wall. “She’s going to be training with me.”

“Batwoman and the Bluebird.” Oracle nodded, “It has a ring to it. Where’s Harper now?”

“Sleeping. I’ve moved her into my spare room.”

“She left the narrows?”

“She needed a place she could actually operate out of.” Kate shrugged, “I’m on call, obviously. But I’m calling it a night.”

“Got it, see you tomorrow night.”

Kate pursed her lips as the screen went blank, Harper would most likely be waiting for her by now. It was time to change into her other suit.

-o-o-o-

Harper turned as she heard the door open, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

“K… Kate? Hi, sorry I just… let myself in, I needed to talk to you and…” she blushed, trailing off as she turned to see Kate. Any anxieties she had felt about sneaking into Kate’s bedroom were suddenly all focussed on the riding crop held in Kate’s gloved hand.

Seeing Kate in all black had been the first few weeks of their bizarre relationship, but there was a league’s distance between the form-fitting body armour of the Batwoman and the sleek black latex Kate was squeezed into now. Harper blushed like a schoolgirl and flapped her mouth wordlessly for a few moments before swallowing and trying again.

“K… Kate?” She managed. Her voice had gone high and squeaky somehow, it made Kate smile and that only made things worse.

“Hello, kitten.” Kate purred, patting her palm with the riding crop with each slow step she took towards Harper. “You snuck into my room.”

“I… I… was just.”

“Being… naughty.” Kate breathed, snapping the crop down on the bed hard enough to make Harper squeak and take a half-step back. “Did you think there would be no rules when you’re living under my roof?”

“I didn’t… I mean… I just…”

“Take off your clothes.”

Harper went as red as Kate’s hair, fingers tugging at her shirt. Kate flexed the crop, a severe expression on her face. “Take… off… your… clothes.”

“Y… yes!” Harper nodded, hastily yanking her shirt over her head and unzipping her jeans, stepping out of them, but pausing as she caught Kate’s eyes. “Um… I… I really didn’t mean to sneak in… I just needed to talk… to… you.” she trailed off and shed her underwear under Kate’s steely gaze. She hugged her waist nervously as Kate stepped close.

“Arms… down.” She said softly. “Back… straight.”

Harper gulped and obeyed, putting her arms at her sides and standing properly. Kate continued to prowl around her, crop in hand. “Better.” She said, “Now, hands behind your back, feet together. And show me a smile.”

“Is… um, is there a reason for all this?” Harper asked slowly, folding her hands behind the small of her back and bringing her heels together.

“Discipline.” Kate said simply, cocking a leather-bound hip and smiling. “You will need to obey my orders in the field when I give them without question, I don’t see why that shouldn’t stop in the bedroom.”

“It’s like having a drill instructor.”

Kate smiled wryly. “Speaking from experience, this is much more pleasant.”

Harper’s breath hitched as the riding crop tapped against her belly. Kate smiled at her blush and moved close, all hardness and stern dominance replaced with a tender smile. She took Harper’s cheek and she kissed her forehead. “K… Kate.”

“You are my guest, Harper.” Kate breathed. “If you want me to stop, tell me to. I can be your mistress, if you want, but if it’s too much, if you’re uncomfortable, I can be something else.”

“No… no I want… like on the rooftop.” Harper whined, “And in my room… I want this.”

“Give me a safe word.” Kate smiled, petting her hair.

“I… I… um… b…blue… berries?” Harper managed.

Kate raised a brow and chuckled. “That will do, Harper. Very nicely.” Harper blushed, pleased that she’d managed to at least pull something vaguely cute out of her ass, before letting out a sharp squeak as Kate grabbed her ear. The steel in her eyes was back.

“Now if you’re finished screwing around, I need to blow off some steam and that is the exact purpose I keep you here for.” Kate growled, leading her to the bed and sitting down. Harper whined as she was led down and draped over Kate’s lap. “You’ve been a naughty girl, kitten. Naughty girls need to be punished.”

She landed her palm on Harper’s rear with a satisfying smack, making Harper squeak and bite her lip in anticipation of the next strike. She managed to hold back her moans until the fifth spank, groaning with arousal and rubbing her thighs together as she lay resting over Kate’s knees.

Kate hissed through her teeth and held her cheek in her palm, kneading her soft, padded flesh and tutting sternly. “You’re enjoying your punishment a little too much, kitten.”

“I’m sorry Kate.” Harper whined, chewing her lip as Kate played with her asscheek, spreading her wide and admiring her slick, eager pussy before patting her softly.

“That name is for when we are not training, kitten.” She breathed huskily. “When I am teaching, you will call me Ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” Harper cooed as Kate gave her one last slap before her hands pushed between her thighs. “Oh fuck!”

Kate’s fingers circled her petals teasingly, her spare hand playing with Harper’s hair. By the time she made a move Harper was practically writhing in Kate’s lap, red-faced with frustration. Kate’s hand disappeared for a moment, leaving Harper in suspense, before it returned slathered in lube and pushed a finger into her ass. Harper squeaked and jumped in Kate’s lap, earning a stern tut as she was pushed firmly back down. “Stay.”

“B… But… nyah… I’ve never…”

“Which is why we’re starting slow.” Kate said quietly. “Now hush.”

Harper whimpered as Kate’s finger gently flexed inside her, pulling back and forth with slow strokes. It didn’t take long for discomfort to melt into arousal, Harper’s whimpers growing all the more lustful as Kate stroked her long fingers up and down her spine. Soon the heat between her legs was unbearable, her cunt made into a hot, stick mess without Kate so much as breathing on it.

When Kate pushed her back onto her knees and took her cheeks in her palms, Harper was almost sobbing to be fucked, panting submissively as Kate admired the mess she’d made the usually strong and confident girl. “If you want to cum tonight, you’ll have to earn it.” Kate purred, making Harper’s cheeks flush even darker as her hands trailed down to tease the girl’s rosy nipples.

Harper trembled as Kate motioned for her to stand, legs turned to jelly as Kate stood and towered over her, taking up her crop again. She spun and squeaked as Kate pushed her against the wall, smoothly cuffing her hands above her head. “You are going to be my whore tonight, Harper Row.” She growled, biting Harper’s ear gently, leaving behind only small pale marks. “Other nights, I may choose to make you my lover, or my servant, or perhaps my pet… you will learn to love subjugation, you will crave it.”

“Yes Ma’am.” Harper nodded meekly. “Please ma’am.”

Kate smiled and took her by the jaw, kissing her cheek as her free hand danced its way down her hip. “One day, if you’ve impressed me in every role I give you… I may even let you choose which to play in.”

Harper bit her lip and nodded silently, shivering in the cool air of the bedroom as Kate opened one of her closets. Harper would come to know the contents of that closet very well in the coming months, the sound of it opening and Kate’s soft humming as she chose which toys to use to play with Harper would make the girl quiver with excitement on the spot. But this first time she just shivered in anticipation.

Kate draped a soft loop of fabric around Harper’s eyes and pulled it tight, tying it off and smiling once she was certain Harper was entirely blind. Harper looked around uselessly as Kate began preparing her, fastening two snug leather things around her ankles, and pinching her nipples with something cold and metal. Harper moaned as Kate’s fingers slipped into her mouth, opening her mouth wide and slipping a hard rubber ball-gag into her. By the time she was done, Harper was stuck in place, ankles locked to the floor, hands hooked onto the wall high above her, the most she could do was to wiggle her hips in place. She was entirely at Kate’s mercy.

“There we go, whore.” Kate rasped. “Now we can begin.”

“Mhhhhm?” Harper hummed wordlessly, turning her head towards Kate’s voice.

She heard the riding crop before it hit her, but only by a moment. She’d frowned, wondering what the sharp swishing sound was, before squeaking into her gag as the broad leather head thwacked against her cheek. Another strike landed on her other cheek, and soon Harper’s rear was criss-crossed with sharp red lines. She was almost dripping with need when the last strike landed squarely between her legs, it wasn’t as hard a hit as the ones that had rained down on her ass, but it was hardly gentle. Harper squeaked into her gag, knees turning inward as Kate chuckled and stroked her reddened cheeks.

“You’re making a mess, whore.”

“Hmmaaa.” Harper managed weakly, lashes fluttering under the blindfold as Kate slipped something hard and warm between her thighs, rubbing against her sopping cunt. God Harper prayed it was a dildo. She was almost mad with the need to be fucked harder than she ever had before.

Kate obliged, spearing Harper with a single gentle thrust of her hips and laughing as Harper moaned wetly into her gag. Her hands tensed and untensed above her as she whined and drooled into the gag, a thin strand of saliva dangling from her lips to her chest as Kate took her hips and began to roll herself against her red and sore backside.

Harper’s eyes crossed as Kate sheathed the full length of the dildo inside her, a delighted whimper bubbling out around the gag as she pushed herself eagerly back against Kate. Pale hands moved from her hips, one pressing against her belly, the other against her heaving chest. Harper was almost certain Kate could feel the frantic beating of her poor submissive heart as her palm pressed against her.

Her thrusts grew in speed and ferocity with every passing second, her hands clawing at Harper’s helpless body. Harper, blind, mute and blushing like a schoolgirl, was in heaven. She was nothing to Kate, nothing but convenient flesh to be played with. Kate didn’t care about her, all she cared about was how she could best use her for her own pleasure. Harper was a toy, and she needed to be Kate’s favourite plaything in a base, feral way that scared her as much as it drove her insane with pleasure.

She squealed with the first orgasm of the night, eyes lolling in her head as she was pounded. If Kate had noticed, she didn’t show she cared. It took all of Harper’s willpower to stay conscious, every cell of her body was begging for release even as her arousal oozed down her inner thighs. Sleep was clawing at her, trying to draw her into submission so complete she would simply fall into Kate’s arms, to be her whore even as she slept.

She whined weakly through the gag, forcing her head to one side and hoping Kate saw her. A strong, warm hand patted her cheek and she smiled, mumbling softly.

“Is it too much?” Kate whispered, lips seeming to be just millimetres away from her skin.

Harper shook her head but mumbled again. “Here, come down.” Kate sighed; Harper could almost hear the smile on her lips. She let out a low groan of relief as Kate unhooked her arms from their place on the wall, stumbling and almost falling as her ankles were freed as well. She tumbled into Kate’s arms and cooed to herself as she was brought down into the older woman’s lap. Kate slipped back inside her easily, her hands taking Harper and guiding her up and down the slick black rod.

The moans and mews filled the room again as Harper was bounced on Kate’s cock, burbling delightedly into the gag. It was easier to focus now she was nestled in Kate’s arms, and Harper threw herself back into showing just how desperately aroused she was by her treatment.

“Mwahha.” She groaned to a sharp smack to her ass, craning her neck back to push back against Kate’s chest, feeling the soft latex press against her back and hot, pale skin brush against her hair.

“Aren’t we eager to please, Whore?” Kate growled lustfully, hands abandoning Harper’s hips and leaving her to bounce herself. Apparently, the metal clasps pinching Harper’s nipples were connected by a chain, because Kate was suddenly tugging at them at once, a sharp pain flaring in her chest before Kate’s soft, gentle hands began to knead at them, replacing pain with warm pleasure.

“If you think you’re impressing me, you need to think again.”

Harper groaned and bounced herself a little faster, mustering all her strength, desperate to please. She was flagging, exhausted and overwhelmed by pleasure, perhaps Kate sensed this because she took her by the hips and rolled her onto her front, her weight pinning Harper to the bed.

“If you can’t be bothered to try. I’ll have to do all the work myself!”

Harper burbled into the mattress of Kate’s bed, cheek pressed down, ass stuck up for Kate to pound at her leisure. Kate growled with lust and set herself the task of breaking in Harper for good. She groaned after a few moments, lifting a leg and pressing her boot heel down against the back of Harper’s head, pushing her down and making her moan even more submissively. 

It took mere moments for Harper to break.

It was too much. It was too good. Harper whined, eyes squeezing closed, arms going limp. She let out one last coo of bliss as Kate’s boot pushed tighter against her scalp and lost consciousness, cumming one last time as she fell asleep.

-o-o-o-

Harper blinked awake in an unfamiliar bed, sitting up and rubbing her eyes in confusion. The room was larger than her whole apartment, the bed alone would have filled her kitchen. She glanced down and blushed to herself, seeing the soft, semi-transparent nightdress she’d been put in.

She stood and frowned, the room was oddly empty, but there were two suitcases by the door. There was a note. She frowned and cautiously picked it up.

“Don’t get dressed, come to me first.”

Harper swallowed, memories rushing back to her that made her blush.

She tugged at the hem of her nightdress and quietly stepped out to meet her mistress. Kate was lounging on a couch, a book in one hand, a mug of coffee in the other. She glanced over and smiled, seeing Harper nervously standing in the doorway.

“Good morning. How do you feel?”

Harper hugged her waist awkwardly before starting and taking the posture Kate had instructed her to use that night. She folded her hands behind her back and smiled shyly. “Really good, Ma’am. Last night was… it was amazing.”

Kate grinned and stood up. “You can call me Kate, Harper. We’re not training.” she stepped up to the kitchen counter and started looking through cupboards. “Coffee?”

“Y… yes, please.” Harper nodded, padding slowly into the room and swallowing as Kate came back towards her, pushing a steaming mug into her hands. “Um… I… did I fall asleep?”

“In my bed.” Kate laughed, “You looked adorable, but I did need to clean you up.”

“I’m… sorry.”

Kate paused and smiled, taking her cheeks and kissing her. “Don’t be, sweetheart. Last night was more than I had hoped for our first real time. You were wonderful.”

Harper blushed happily and sat down beside Kate on the couch, leaning against her and sighing. “Is… is it always going to be like this.” She asked softly, enjoying Kate’s fingers toying with her soft blue hair. “We fight and train and… and fuck, at night. And at day we’re… what?”

“Friends?” Kate offered. “Partners?”

“I’ll try and make you proud.” Harper mumbled shyly, blushing as Kate stroked her scalp.

“So, you enjoyed being my whore… what would you like to try next?” Her mistress purred, making Harper shiver with anticipation.

Whore. Lover. Servant. Pet.

Kitten.

The Work Continues.

As Clea and Ambrose work in the Royal Palace to break in The Queen's latest acquisition, Savage can't help but feel she's being replaced. As Clea becomes more and more distant, Savage finds comfort in the arms of The Queen herself.

-o-o-o-

“We really must do this more often.” Clea sighed, stroking her belly with relaxed contentment, sipping from her teacup before setting it daintily onto its plate. “It’s a shame my new duties keep us apart.”

“You say that, Clea, and yet you won’t tell us what those duties are.” Allian sighed tiredly. She pursed her lips and snapped imperiously, summoning Marigold to the table. “A fresh pot of tea, now.”

“At once milady.” Marigold whispered, quickly scurrying away. Clea watched the little blonde go and smiled.

“No more problems with her?” she asked.

“Oh, constantly.” Allian replied, a humourless smile coming to her lips. “But thanks to you I know how to beat her back into submission.” Clea’s smile faltered a little, her eyes flitting to where Savage was standing, watching in silence.

“Violence is… a useful too, dear.” She said, feigning disinterest. “But a tad barbaric, I do hope you don’t use it too much?”

“It keeps her in line, and from embarrassing me.” Allian sniffed, scowling with impatience as Marigold sped back to the table and poured her a new cup with trembling hands. “She needs a firm hand. You taught me that.” Clea looked at the girl directly for the first time, her throat catching as she noticed the bruises peeking out from under her blouse.

“A firm hand, dear, not a fist.” Clea said slowly. “Look at sweet Suzie, her pets are wonderfully well behaved thanks to her knowing when to punish them, and when to reward them.” Suzie glanced up from her lap, blushing furiously and trying to look like she’d been paying attention.

“Hmm? Oh! Oh yes, they’re wonderfully obedient.” She smiled. Clea sighed and looked beneath her table where one of the twins was greedily devouring Suzanne’s sex, chin dripping with arousal. She tutted motherly and fixed Suzie with a stern glance.

“Suzie, really? At the table?”

Suzanne’s cheek flushed even darker, her hand snaking down to play with the mop of ginger hair pushing against her pussy. “It’s my home, Clea. You’re free to play with your Savage.”

“Savage has been hard at work, love.” Clea chuckled. “This is a nice break for her, isn’t it?”

“I’m glad for the peace, mistress.” Savage agreed with a small smile. “But I’m ready to serve ye whenever ye desire.”

“Good girl.” Clea purred, before turning back to her friends. Suzanne was once again preoccupied with the girl between her legs, Allian was picking at her cake with a disinterested sneer. “It’s been so long, what have you two been up to? has my absence truly dulled your lives so much?”

Suzanne giggled and shook her head. “Of course not, Clea, though I certainly missed you.” she laced her fingers and preened for a second before flashing a wide, innocent grin. “Jeffrey took me north for a holiday, I wanted to see where the girls come from. It’s such a… rustic land, all hills and heather and lakes. It’s really quite beautiful. I took the girls of course, just to watch them play about and frolic. It was such a sweet sight, though they caught quite a cold after I had them swim about in one of the lochs.”

“Suzie you’re surprisingly cruel for someone with such an innocent demeanour.” Clea laughed, “Torturing your poor girls like that.”

“I didn’t torture them!” Suzanne complained sharply. “I just… wanted to see them in their homeland.”

“A homeland you took them from.” Clea reminded her, “You’ll only make the dears homesick, and that’ll lead to trouble.”

“They’re fine, Clea.” Suzanne sighed, “Stop fretting.”

“And you Ali? What fun have you been up to?”

Allian wrinkled her nose. “None.”

“Oh please, life can’t be so miserable, can it?”

“Clea, would you kindly get your nose out of my business?” Allian hissed.

Clea blinked. “Allian whatever do you mean?”

“Oh, spare me the innocence.” Allian snapped. “Whilst you’ve been rolling in the filth with your pet bitch, the rest of us have been living in reality! We can’t all throw our shame away and live like harlots!”

“Ali… m… maybe you should calm down?” Suzanne said nervously, eyes flitting between them.

“And what would you know about it? You play the naïve schoolgirl but you’re as much a depraved slut as this cow!” Allian shouted, standing and snarling down at them. “You should be ashamed, the both of you! Allowing those beasts to touch you whenever they please! And you Clea! Carrying its filthy bastard in your belly! How can you live with yourself!?”

“Allian, I don’t understand why you’re angry!” Suzanne cried, tears sparkling in her eyes.

“This depravity has gone on too long.” Allian growled. “I thought it was fun at first, playing along with those things with you, Clea. But now you’re that animal’s broodmare! And no one seems to care! You act like a savage whore, embarrass yourself, let yourself be bred by your own filthy barbarian and you’re rewarded for it!? You’re employed by her majesty despite it all? It’s not right, it’s not fair!”

“Not fair?” Clea snorted. “You’re delusional Allian. I’ve worked for everything I have.”

“So have I!” Allian shrieked hysterically. “So why am I punished for it? Why do I suffer whilst you are rewarded?”

“Allian what are you talking about?” Suzanne whispered, drawing her pet up from under the table and squeezing her hand.

“Jonathan divorced me.” Allian whimpered, falling back into her seat and cupping her mouth with a hand. “He took everything. Said… said me keeping Marigold was immoral and… and now I have nothing.”

“Allian why didn’t you say?” Suzanne whispered. “Where are you staying? Whatever will you do?”

“My mother is hosting me.” Allian murmured before looking up and fixing Clea with a venomous glare. “It’s all your fault you bitch. You corrupted me, you corrupted all of us. Made us think it was fun and fine to keep those beasts, to let them lie with us. Thanks to you all of England is perverted.”

“Ah yes, of course.” Clea sneered, “I alone have brought down our great nation by daring to have a little fun. My hubris has doomed our beloved homeland to barbarism.” She stood slowly and gratefully accepted Savage’s arm. “It’s not my fault you married a backwards prude for his money, Allian. If your life has taken a turn, it’s no one’s fault but your own.”

“Clea…” Suzanne whined. “Please don’t make it worse.”

“Don’t worry, dear.” Clea smiled, “I have business to attend to anyway. I do apologise for cutting things short, but Lady Marron and I have an appointment with her majesty. As savage and corrupted as I may be, I have enough manners not to keep royalty waiting.”

“You’ll pay for it all in the end, Clea.” Allian shouted as she walked away. “You and your filth. You’ll all pay for your debauchery!”

“I very much doubt it my dear!” Clea smiled, kissing her Savage’s cheek before the door shut behind her.

-o-o-o-

“She’s not the only one.” Ambrose murmured. “There are more and more coming out of the woodwork, talking of how immoral and disgusting the practice is.” Clea sighed and rolled her eyes, leaning back on the couch with her belly cradled in her arms. Her feet rested on a pillow atop Savage’s knees, the gorgeous redhead massaging her aching ankles.

“Prudes.”

“Perhaps, but they aren’t without a point, Lady Lamont.” Ambrose nodded slowly. “The ideals of the empire are being eroded by people like you. Your fun is harmless until people start thinking of it as more than just fun. What if people begin freeing their girls? Or marrying them?”

“Hmm, there’s an idea.” Clea smirked. “What do you say, Savage? Will you be my bride?”

“If that’ll make ye happy, mistress.” Savage smiled.

“Are you incapable of taking anything seriously?” Ambrose sighed, frustrated.

“Entirely, my love.”

“I am not your love.” Ambrose said firmly, standing up and brushing down her front. “Now, we have a job to do.” She moved with her usual elegance to where the Beast was chained, snarling and straining to break free. After a little over a week of both Clea and Ambrose carefully preparing her, they were about ready to begin breaking her in. As usual the once-Queen of the north was a magnificent sight, impeccable muscles tensing and straining beneath soft pale skin. Dazzling eyes and perfect lips peeking out from a mass of gorgeous black hair. As Ambrose approached and pressed her hand against Beast’s belly, the woman let out a muffled shout, lurching towards her as much as she could.

Ambrose pursed her lips and brushed back the hair covering Beast’s face, revealing her beautiful, regal features. She seemed almost entranced for a moment, lost in the northwoman’s eyes, until she blinked and flushed embarrassedly, turning away to the desk where their tools lay.

Savage hadn’t missed Ambrose’s infatuation with the Beast, nor had Clea’s own obsession with her slipped her notice. Glancing up and seeing Clea’s adoring expression focussed on someone other than her made Savage’s blood boil, her thumbs pushing down at Clea’s dainty feet a little harder than she had meant to.

“Ow! Savage!”

“Sorry mistress. I slipped, won’t happen again.”

“Please see that it doesn’t.” Clea sighed, “My feet hurt quite enough without your help.” She sat up awkwardly and huffed, patting her stomach before struggling to her feet. “These little nuisances are becoming more and more difficult.” She sighed, “I feel like I’ve been weighed down by stones.”

“Not long, mistress. Just a few weeks.” Savage smiled, placing a kiss on her belly. “Then I’ll take care of them for you.”

“Hmm, will you now? Eager to be a mother, are we?”

“They are my babies, mistress, it’s my duty to care for them.”

“I will still have need of you.” Clea hummed, looking at beast, a distracted expression on her face. “in any case, we have more immediate concerns. Help me down please?”

Savage nodded and guided Clea down onto a plump pillow that had been placed between Beast’s feet. Her mistress sighed and brushed some pale hair back into place before smiling up at Ambrose. “My, the cut of your jaw is all the more sublime from this angle.”

“Focus, Lamont.” Ambrose murmured, cheeks darkening a little despite herself. She took a thick metal ring from the table and grabbed Beast’s manhood, earning another muffled yell of fury from the woman. Clea watched with interest as Ambrose oiled and then carefully slipped the ring onto Beast, smiling to herself at the expression of wonder on Ambrose’s face as she handled Beast’s impressive package.

“Mmm, feel that sweetie? Now we can have our fun for hours.” Clea purred, stroking her hands up Beast’s bare legs and grinning at her as she scowled downwards.

“There must be other ways to break her in.” Ambrose sighed as she began petting Beast’s cock, dainty, long-fingered hands squeezing and stroking the immense pole, coaxing it up to full mast before reluctantly withdrawing.

“I’m the expert.” Clea hummed, drinking in the sight of Beast’s manhood as it stood to attention and then fell under its own weight down towards her face. She nibbled at her lip and brought it against her cheek, cooing as she rubbed it against her skin. “Trust me, this is the best way.”

“Because it feeds your addiction?” Ambrose asked, pursing her lips as Clea started suckling at Beast’s tip. “You really don’t have any shame about this?”

“M’ not addicted.” Clea hummed, “I can stop whenever I please.” She placed a gentle kiss on the throbbing tip of Beast’s rod before licking her lips and looking up at Savage. “Savage my dear, could you fetch us some tea?”

Savage pouted, watching the two women fawn over Beast, but nodded with a forced, obedient smile. “Of course, mistress.” She turned on a heel and left the room, trying to ignore the soft, wet sounds behind her as her beloved mistress returned to playing with Beast’s meaty pole.

-o-o-o-

“Your tea, mistress.” Savage said brightly, stepping back into the office with a tray in her hands. “I’m sorry but the kitchens ran out of chamomile so… I…” she trailed off, eyes widening and grip tightening on the tray until her knuckles were white as she saw the scene before her.

Both Clea and Ambrose were on their knees between Beast’s powerful legs, slurping at her cock like deranged beasts. One of Clea’s hands was hard at work between her legs, the other was wrapped around Ambrose’s slender waist. Beast was red-faced and furious, but wasn’t attempting to move, just staring down at the two women gorging themselves on her cockmeat, smearing each other’s spit and her own precum over their faces as they sucked and licked and rubbed themselves against her like bitches in heat.

There was a snap and the tray in Savage’s hand shook, spilling the two teacups a little and scalding her fingers. She hissed with pain and quickly set down the tray, now sporting a long crack in its wooden frame from where Savage’s grip had warped it.

“Mistress?” Savage said again, voice tense and jaw tight. “Your tea.”

“Thank… you… love.” Clea moaned, pulling herself away from Beast long enough to slur out those words before engulfing the cock again.

Savage scowled and sat, crossing her arms and trying to ignore the delighted cooing Clea was making. She hadn’t expected Lady Marron to do anything like this, she was always so disdainful of their relationship, but there she was, rubbing shoulders with Clea and fighting to guzzle down Beast’s manhood. Perhaps Ms Allian hadn’t been entirely without a point when she said Clea corrupted people.

She pouted as the display continued, turning in her seat and turning her scowl onto the bookshelves, trying to distract herself by reading through their titles and imagining what stories they told. Her mood only worsened as the wet slurping and gagging and giggling went on and on and one until it was replaced by the quiet smacking of lips.

Savage whined and looked over, seeing Clea lain on her back with Ambrose on top of her, the two kissing with desperate passion. Hands clawed through hair and tugged at their dresses. Clea’s thighs rose and locked against Ambrose’s hips, trying to pull her even closer against her. Beast looked a little confused, still pulsing above them, her cock slick with the women’s spit.

Wonderful. Yet another woman to steal Clea’s attention.

“Hah…” Clea breathed as the kiss broke, staring up at Ambrose with as much surprise as lust. Her cheeks burned as a pale hand moved up to toy with Ambrose’s short spikey hair. “Rosie… so passionate… Anyone would think you actually liked me.”

“Must you ruin the moment?” Ambrose sighed, blushing just as darkly. She straightened up and wiped her face, embarrassedly glancing to where Savage was sat, glowering at her with simmering fury. “I… I got carried away.”

“I noticed.” Clea teased, sitting up and kissing her softly. “Take me to bed, Rosie.”

“Clea… we can’t.”

“I want to see that passion again.” Clea rasped, lips making their way over Ambrose’s throat, hands stroking up over her belly to her breast. “Please?”

“N… no.”

Savage frowned, watching Clea sigh and then nod, withdrawing her hand and letting Ambrose stand. As Ambrose stepped away and started making herself presentable, Clea just sat and watched her, eyes admiring the elegant curve of her body from her nape down to the swell of her rump. “Savage, would you help me up, dear?”

Savage looked at her mistress for a moment before standing and obediently padding over, helping her to her feet and adjusting the straps of her dress before folding her arms. Clea smiled and patted her cheek. “Thank you love.” 

Savage remained silent. “What’s this pout, hmm?” Clea sighed, running a thumb over Savage’s lips. “Where’s that beautiful smile?”

“Is there anything more ye need from me, mistress?” Savage asked coldly. “Perhaps more tea? I think what I brought ye has gone cold.” Clea inspected her critically before taking a step back.

“No. Go sit down whilst Ambrose and I work.” She said slowly, watching as Savage obediently sank back down into her seat, folding her arms and scowling at the bookshelves again.

After a brief pause the torture continued, Ambrose and Clea worked at pleasuring the bound woman until she was shaking with the need for release, only to stop and carefully beat her back until they could start all over again. They toyed with her cock, used their hands and mouths and thighs to squeeze and stroke it until it was throbbing with excitement. They played with the rest of her body, pinching and pulling at her nipples, smacking and spanking the fleshy pads of her arse.

Beast would go from roaring into her gag, muffled screams begging for release and wordlessly promising revenge, to mewing and moaning and quietly pleading for more. Her big, dark eyes went from almost glowing with rage, to smouldering with pleasure, to softly pleading the two women working on her for mercy. The softness was often fleeting, but each time it appeared behind her dazzling eyes, it lingered a little longer.

Savage watched despite herself, her mistress was a thing of beauty when she was at work, after all. Savage only wished Clea wouldn’t enjoy herself so much, or flirt with Ambrose quite so enthusiastically. She sighed miserably and toyed with the tassel on one of the pillows on the couch, hugging it to her belly for comfort as the woman she loved enjoyed herself without her.

She looked up as the door opened, blushing as The Queen’s eyes immediately fell onto her, her lip curling with an appreciative smile. “Ladies, how goes the work?”

“Perfectly well, your majesty.” Clea chuckled, patting Beast’s rear as she turned and bowed her head.

“We’re almost to the point we can remove her gag.” Ambrose agreed, curtseying as the Queen moved up to stroke Beast’s jaw. Beast shied away initially, but as the Queen tightened her grip, she surrendered, staring angrily down at her own feet.

“Hmm, I can see your progress already.” The Queen murmured, reaching down to toy with the curls crowning Beast’s member. She smiled brightly and turned away, “You’ve done marvellously, I’m glad my faith is being rewarded.”

“We’re just happy to serve, your Majesty.” Ambrose smiled.

“In any case, you’ll be handsomely rewarded.” The Queen laughed, “Will you be working much longer? It’s grown late.”

“I think I may retire.” Clea smiled, petting her belly tiredly. “We’ll start again nice and early.”

“Of course, but if I may ask one more thing of you?”

“Naturally, Your Majesty. I serve at your pleasure.”

“I would very much like to borrow your Savage.” The Queen purred, turning to smile at Savage, who blushed quietly. “A night of passion with a strapping young thing like her is something I have dearly desired since you first introduced the fashion.”

“It would be an honour, Your Majesty.”

The Queen smiled hungrily and beckoned with a finger, drawing Savage close and taking her by the hips. “Oh yes. I will enjoy you immensely.” She nibbled her lip, fingers playing with the soft pale flesh beneath them. She turned back and smiled. “Ladies, I shall see you tomorrow.”

“Sleep well mistress.” Savage called hopefully, wringing her hands together as the Queen took her leash. Clea waved vaguely in her direction, already focussing on Beast again, toying with some rich black curls.

“Yes... goodnight.”

Savage’s face fell, chest feeling hollow as Clea kissed Beast’s jaw. She hung her head and obediently padded away, following the Queen as she led her to her chambers.

-o-o-o-

Savage groaned as the Queen pushed her against the door to her chambers, hands coiling around her manhood and squeezing gently.

“Oh, sweet lord.” The Queen whimpered, chewing her lip as she moved close and pawed at Savage’s breast. “You are… simply incredible.”

Savage blushed a little as her nipple was pinched, forcing a smile as the older woman’s fingers sank into the welcoming flesh of her breast, kneading her gently and coaxing a low sigh of arousal. “I… am glad you find me pleasing, ma’am.”

“Very pleasing.” The Queen purred. “Come.” She turned and drew her through into her chambers, shutting the door with a quiet click before pressing her lips against Savage’s back. Savage blinked at the room she’d been drawn into, stunned. She thought she had grown accustomed to the wealth of the south living with Clea and seeing Lady Marron’s mansion. Apparently, she had not.

The Queen chuckled, petting her cheek. “You like it?”

“There’s… so much.” Savage mumbled. Struggling to fully come to terms with how much gold and jewels and silks and ancient artefacts were displayed throughout the immense living chambers.

“Come to the bed.” The Queen smiled, turning and unlacing her bodice, shedding her dress and sashaying up a small flight of stairs where her immense four-poster bed stood waiting. Savage followed quietly, swallowing nervously as the Queen unclasped her bra and let it fall to the ground.

She was beautiful, soft and curvy and motherly, beckoning with a single finger and drawing Savage close. Her hand took Savage’s leash and tugged her tight against her, skin warm as it pressed against her own. “How old are you?”

“Twenty, ma’am.”

“Hmmmm.” The Queen grinned, lying back on the bed and pulling Savage down with her, cooing as Savage blushed, finding herself draped over her body. “You have lovely eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am.”

The Queen chuckled and shook her head, “Love, you’re about to fuck me like I’m a gutter-whore. You may call me Mary.”

“Yes, Mary.” Savage blushed. She bit her lip as Mary’s hands began to explore her rear. She forced a pleased coo and pushed her face against Mary’s cheek, kissing and gently nibbling her way over the soft pale skin until she reached the Queen’s collarbone. It was mostly to hide her face, and the Queen didn’t seem to notice that her heart just wasn’t fully invested in pleasing like it normally was. It wasn’t the Queen, she was beautiful and lovely and so very very soft beneath her, she sighed in a way she hoped was sufficiently lustful and stroked her hands through the Queen’s silver hair, pulling it out of its bun and stroking it.

She didn’t think she’d been doing too badly, but after a moment the Queen took her cheeks and pulled her away from her breast. Her expression was searching, her eyes soft and gentle and…

Savage burst into tears.

“I’m sorry.” She whimpered.

“Shh… it’s alright.” The Queen breathed, taking her head in her hands and cradling her close. “What is it?”

“I’m… sorry… it’s… not my place… I should… be a good girl.” Savage sniffed. “I’m obedient… I promise… it’s just.”

“Tell me, sweetheart.” Mary said softly, brushing some flaming hair out of her face and wiping away her tears.

“Mistress loves me… I know she loves me, but… she… she won’t even look at me anymore.” Savage whimpered, hugging herself and trembling as Mary’s hands played with her hair. “It’s… been days and… and the only time she’s payed any attention to me was t… to make miss Allian angry.”

“I’m sure she’s just distracted; she’s getting quite far along.”

“It’s your Beast, ma’am. She won’t stop talking about her.” Savage sniffed, shaking her head. “She’s replacing me.”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure that’s not true.” Mary sighed, cupping her cheeks and tugging her to her chest and petting her hair softly. “You are magnificent, the envy of every woman who sees Clea with you. Lady Lamont would be a true fool to think she could do better than you. And from all I have seen, she is certainly no fool.”

“I love her.” Savage sniffed. “I don’t think she even cares.”

“I’m certain she does.” Mary smiled before letting out a low sigh and pulling Savage’s head up, placing a soft kiss on her lips. “Lie back, sweetheart.”

“N… no… I can please… I’m sorry, I’m just…”

“Lie… back.” Mary said a little more firmly. Savage obeyed, settling down into the soft pillows and wiping her eyes as the Queen smiled down at her. “Now stay here a moment, I’ll be back to take care of you.”

“But…”

“Stay.” The Queen tutted, pushing her down as she tried to sit up. “That’s an official royal command.”

Savage mumbled a quiet obedient noise and hugged herself, staring morosely up at the canopy of the bed.

It was only a few moments before Mary returned, smiling brightly to her before tugging on the two leashes in her hands. Two girls stepped up, flashing wide smiles at her and admiring them over the trays they held. Each wore a light, gossamer-thin nightdress over their naked bodies, transparent enough that their rods were easily seen hanging between their legs. Savage frowned and shifted on the bed, shying away from Mary as she knelt down and touched her shoulder.

“These are my favourite girls, Morgana and Guinevere.” She said quietly. “We’re going to take care of you tonight.”

“I… don’t understand.”

“Would you like tea?” Morgana asked with a soft, delicate voice, setting her tray down. She was tall and thin, with a shy smile and lovely blue eyes.

“Or a massage?” Guinevere said, presenting her own tray with a series of small boils of oil and towels on it.

“I… M…Ma’am?”

“Tonight, you may serve by tell me what you want.” Mary sighed, stroking her hand down her spine. She took a teacup from Morgana and brought it carefully to Savage’s trembling hands. “Drink?”

“I’ve… never had tea.”

“Well then let’s fix that!” Mary chuckled, “Try it!”

Savage blushed, and nervously sipped the teacup. She made a face, which made Mary laugh. “No?”

“It’s… odd.”

“Try mine.” the Queen sighed, beckoning to Morgana who immediately presented another teacup. “Milk and three sugars.”

Savage took a slow drink before smiling, nodding a little. “Nice.”

“Excellent.” Mary grinned, kissing her cheek as she took another sip. “Guinn?”

“Ready, mother.” Guinevere smiled, brushing some dirty blonde hair out of her round, cheerful face. She was small and quite muscular, though not nearly as physically impressive as Savage. The Queen nodded and the girl grinned, laying out the warm towels along the edge of the bed. Savage watched nervously until her cup ran dry and Mary quickly spirited it away.

“Lie down, sweetheart.” She said, gently guiding Savage up and then lying her down on her chest. “Guinn has the most amazing hands; she’ll have you glowing with contentment in moments.”

“I… I don’t…”

“Shhh.” Mary breathed, “It’s alright, just relax.”

Savage squeaked as warm, strong hands took her legs by the calves and began to rub them. After the initial shock, it began to feel nice, the tension in her muscles ebbing away with every firm movement of the girl’s hands. By the time Guinn’s hands were rubbing at her shoulders, Savage was whimpering with contentment, smiling down into her arms as she lay and felt the girl’s weight press gently down on her rear.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Mary cooed, lying beside her and cuddling Morgana.

“It’s… very nice, Ma’am.” Savage sighed, humming softly as Guinn’s hands stroked down from her shoulders to her hips. She didn’t complain as the hands moved over her rump, they’d been thoroughly massaged already, but she let out a sharp squeak of surprise as a pair of fingers pushed between her thighs and slipped inside her ass. “Ah… wh… wha… uhhh.” Savage managed, her protest dying in her throat as Guinn’s fingers flexed inside her.

Suddenly she found herself groaning as the girl’s fingers began to thrust into her arse, breath taken away and cock suddenly throbbing into life. Mary chuckled and ran her hand through Savage’s hair as she mewed. “Surely that’s nothing new, sweetheart?” Savage moaned vaguely, eyes rolling up in her head as the fingers curled inside her. “My, Clea isn’t nearly as adventurous as I thought.”

“Mother… may I play?” Morgana asked softly, Savage looked over to see Mary grinning, kissing Morgana’s cheek before lying on her front. Morgana eagerly scampered around her, lowering herself down to her knees and pushing herself between the Queen’s thighs. Savage watched with interest as Morgana sank her fingers into a small bowl of pale blue gel, slathering her length with it before lining herself up with Mary’s pucker.

The Queen mewed, nibbling her lip as she was speared, fingers tightening on the bed sheets. “Oh yes… Thank you my dear.”

“F… fuck.” Savage grunted as Guinn pushed deep, the girl moving low against her back and breathing into her ear.

“May I please fuck you?”

Savage looked at Mary, who let out a delighted groan, and then at the odd gel, before nodding shyly. She heard Guinevere’s eager giggle and moaned as the fingers slipped out of her. She found herself pushing her hips up in the air as Guinn prepared herself, her cock throbbing excitedly beneath her belly as she wiggled herself needily in the girl’s direction.

“You’re an eager one, love.” She chuckled, dipping her fingers into the gel again and pushing them back into Savage’s eager hole, coaxing a delighted groan from Savage’s lips. She used her fingers to gently tug Savage’s rear open a little before pushing her rod inside. Savage couldn’t bite back her moan and blushed embarrassedly as the Queen beside her laughed. “God above, you’re tight.” Guinn groaned.

“I… I like it.” Savage mumbled quietly, cheeks burning as Guinn began to roll her hips, pumping gently with short, slow thrusts.

“I’ve noticed.” Mary laughed, groaning as Morgana pushed against her. Morgana was not nearly as gentle as Guinevere, grinning with delight as she fucked the Queen’s arse with well-practiced strokes. She leant down and kissed the back of Mary’s head adoringly, mewing as her hips pounded onwards. “Oh yes dear, just like that.”

Savage whined, her cock twitching painfully beneath her, so hard it was struggling beneath her. she slowly rose up, getting onto her hands and knees to let her cock breathe a little. Guinn let out a low gasp as she saw Savage’s length, reaching down and gently stroking it. “You’re so big!” she breathed.

“Wh… oh!” Savage managed, now suddenly finding her cock being explored as well as the confines of her arse. She groaned and bowed her head, gritting her teeth as she found herself quickly getting overwhelmed.

“Oh!” Guinevere gasped as Savage groaned, spewing a thick, steaming load down onto the towels.

Savage moaned quietly, cheeks dark with humiliation. “I… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Mary grinned, taking her hand and squeezing. “It’s good to see you having fun.”

“I… I should have been gentler.” Guinevere mumbled.

“N… no.” Savage blushed. “It was good… m…may I have more?”

Mary’s face split into a grin. “We can do better than that, sweetheart.”

Savage groaned as Guinevere pulled out of her, and obediently shuffled back as Mary straightened up and lifted Savage up. She was still a little dazed, cock pulsing and body vibrating with a warm, pleasant glow. In what felt like only a moment, Savage was kneeling over the Queen, cock rubbing between her thighs as Mary giggled and stroked her shoulders.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?” she asked softly. Savage blushed and nodded, slightly confused. She pressed herself inside The Queen to a loud moan of delight form the older woman. Savage sighed happily at the hot, wet softness massaging her rod and then practically howled as both Morgana and Guinevere’s liberally lubricated rods pressed inside her. She groaned breathlessly, trembling as her cock pulsed immediately. Mary purred at the sight and reached up, tugging her down into a warm kiss. “How does that feel?”

“I’m… so full.” Savage whined, “It feels… good!”

“Mmmm, start fucking dears, let’s make this a night to remember.” The Queen cooed before laying back and nibbling her lip as all three girls began to roll their hips. Savage quivered as she was assaulted by pleasure she’d never felt before, the Queen’s cunt around her rod and two full cocks pushing with slow gentle thrusts into her rear. Her cock moved with the motion inside Mary’s hot, wet slit, she barely needed to do a thing beyond groan and fondle the Queen’s body beneath her.

“She’s… so tight.” Guinn whined, panting as she clung to her sister with one hand, the other tugging urgently on Savage’s hip.

“So much tighter than mother.” Morgana agreed, tugging her fellow slave in for a long kiss.

“Careful, sweet.” Mary groaned, trying her best to sound sever as Savage filled her. “You don’t want to insult me, do you?”

“Morgie loves her spankings.” Guinn grinned evilly.

“Does she?” The Queen sighed, biting her lip at a particularly sharp thrust into her. “W… well I’ll… have to find another… way to… punish her.”

“You… have them call you… mother?” Savage breathed, frowning as she tried to hold back her orgasm with a little smalltalk. Her stamina had been made utterly pathetic thanks to the cocks playing in her arse.

“Just a little fun.” Mary purred. “I did remake them, and they’re so wonderfully sweet. My little playthings. I’m a little ashamed to say I love them more than my real sons.”

“It’s… intimate.”

“So is sharing my bed with them.” Mary sighed, moaning as Savage’s hands moved from her shoulders to her waist for a better grip.

“Mistress and I… share a bed, but it’s… different.”

“You’re there for her convenience, I suppose?”

“Yes.”

“P… perhaps, dear, you need to show her just how you want to be treated. Once our night has concluded.” The Queen chuckled, “Now enough talk… fuck me like the animal you are.”

Savage groaned and obeyed, turning her attention down to the Queen and moving her hips as fast as she could sustain. Behind her, the girls groaned, barely moving as Savage put all the work in, bucking her hips back against them and then thrusting forwards deep into their mistress.

“Oh… yes… yes that’s it.” The Queen was moaning beneath Savage, “Oh god you’re magnificent!”

“I… I’m close… ma’am.” Savage croaked, hands tangled in Mary’s hair as her hips moved almost by themselves.

“Don’t hold back.” Mary grinned, grabbing her by the cheeks and squeezing.

Savage nodded, panting breathlessly. Behind her, the girls were moaning as well, quickly reaching their peak as well.

She erupted inside the Queen with a low groan, pressing her head down as the girls blew their loads inside her as well. it was unlike anything she’d ever felt before, leaving her breathless as the warmth rushed through her.

“That was wonderful.” The Queen sighed contentedly. She stroked her hands around Savage’s waist and tugged her down beside her, “Lie with me.”

“Y… yes.” Savage managed to mumble, rolling onto her side and groaning. The Queen chuckled and cupped her cheek, planting a soft kiss on her lips before turning to the girls.

“You too, loves, come cuddle.”

“With pleasure, mother.” Guinn purred, dropping down and nestling herself against Mary’s hip, her lips kissing a soft, heavy breast with adoration before she sighed and closed her eyes. Morgana smiled and carefully lay herself behind savage, slipping her hands around her and nuzzling close. Savage hummed contentedly, pushing her face against Mary’s cheek as Morgana’s fingers stroked over her belly.

“Thank you, ma’am.” Savage breathed, earning a gentle pat to the cheek in reply.

“My pleasure… S… savage.” The older woman sighed sleepily before falling asleep.

Savage smiled tiredly to herself and settled down, thinking about what the Queen had said. Perhaps she should try and show just how much Clea meant to her, how she wished they would be more than mistress and slave. 

She just worried how her mistress would react.

The Bat and The Bird.

No not those two.

I'm kinda a huge fan of Batwoman and Bluebird is entirely my favourite bat-kid. So they're gonna fuck god damn it.

When Batwoman arrives at a mugging Bluebird has just broken up, she sees that the girl is nowhere near ready to be on the streets of Gotham as a vigilante. She resolves to train Bluebird, but winds up bending her over on a rooftop and fucking her stupid.

-o-o-o-

The streets of Gotham glowed dully beneath Kate as she swung between the buildings, echoing with the usual hum of people hurrying to and fro, wondering which costume freak would make the city their playground that night.

Her boots hit the side of an old smokestack and she sighed, locking her grapple and tapping her cowl to bring up a detailed map of the streets. It was thankfully quiet, no plant-monsters or joker gas bombs or legion of penguins marching in the streets, just the good old-fashioned thugs of Gotham City. Below, she could see a good three blocks in any direction thanks to the tech oracle had installed into her mask. There was absolutely nothing happening.

She pursed her lips and sighed again. “Oracle, you got anything for me on your end?”

“Nothing to speak of Batwoman, seems like all your efforts are paying off.” Oracle laughed into her ear. “Do a few more loops of the Narrows, it’ll be dawn soon enough.”

“Sure, should be fun.” Kate sighed.

She shut off the channel and detached the grapple, falling like a stone from the tower before extending her cape and gliding neatly onto the roof of a run-down apartment block. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but she wished the Knights were a little less effective. Back in the day she’d taken a thrill in beating the scum of Gotham into a pulp on a nightly basis, but nowadays things were so much calmer, her patrols were little more than a workout. She needed a crime wave… or to get laid, either-or really.

A scream rang out.

Finally.

Kate cut her line mid-swing, twisting in the air and shooting out the grapple in the direction of the commotion, zipping through the night air with a grin on her lips. Her boots hammered on walls as she ran to keep the momentum of her swings, matching the excited beating of her heart as she finally shot up into the air and swan-dived down into the alley where the scream had come from.

She landed, and swore, seeing a trio of thugs lying on the floor. It seemed she’d missed all the action. “Oracle, I’ve got three unconscious thugs on my location, call GCPD for a pick-up.”

“Bluebird already called it in.”

“Blue…” Kate frowned before scowling and looking up where a girl was sitting on a fire escape. “Harper.”

“Hey, watch the secret-identity.” Bluebird growled, leaning on the railing.

“You did this?”

“Sure did, and in record time.” Bluebird grinned proudly, tapping the butt of her rifle against the metal bar she was leaning on. Batwoman raised a brow and looked at the men, shaking her head.

“Sloppy work.”

“Excuse me?”

“Three thugs, here, here and here.” Batwoman sighed, pointing about the alley where the men were sprawled unconscious. “Two shots brought him down, three shots hit this one but only one was an incapacitating blow. I count four rounds on the floor by that one and from the looks of it you brought him down with a kick. You’re sloppy.”

“Took them down, didn’t I?” Harper snapped.

“Every second of a fight is an opportunity, for you and your opponent. You take down someone hard and fast the threat to you is minimal. You play with them, or you screw up, you make it more and more likely you’ll get yourself hurt, or killed.”

“If I wanted a lecture I’d go to the big guy.” Harper spat, flipping herself up over the fire-escape and disappearing over the top. Kate growled and followed, shooting up into the air thanks to her grapple and landing in front of the kid.

“If you want to be part of the big leagues you’ve got to be better.” She said, watching as Bluebird balled her fists and subtly shifted into a fighting stance.

“I’m doing just… fine!” Harper shouted, swinging a fist at Kate’s head. She easily batted it aside and kicked the girl back, sending her sprawling onto the floor. She was on top of her in an instant, pulling her arm back behind her spine and keeping her pinned.

Harper moaned.

Kate blinked in disbelief, pale cheeks flushing as Harper’s ass pushed back against her hips as she lay on top of her. “Did… did you just moan?”

“N… no.”

“You’re enjoying this?”

“Fuck off.”

Kate pulled back a little, kneeling but keeping Harper’s arm tightly locked behind her spine, twisting her a little and drawing another cute mew of submission from the girl’s mouth. Her eyes couldn’t help but wander as her mind raced, admiring Harper’s young, svelte frame, the curve of her body, and the delicious peach of her butt. She spent a lot of time with women in spandex, wandering eyes couldn’t be helped, but Harper’s ass really was fucking delicious.

Slowly, her free hand moved and took Harper’s hip, thumb stroking at her soft, warm flesh through the skin-tight suit. “W… what are you doing?” Harper squeaked. Kate smiled at the embarrassment in the girl’s voice, and the quiet needy whimpers she made. Her hand moved, slipping from her hip around to paw at one of her cheeks. “G…get off me, pervert!”

“Shut up.” Kate snapped, slapping Harper’s rear sharply. The girl whimpered and trembled in her grasp, wiggling back against her submissively. “You need to be taught a lesson.”

“B… Batwoman… wait.” Harper whined, “I’m sorry… I’ll do better.”

“You will, because I’m going to train you.” Kate breathed into her ear, hand still pawing and kneading her doughy cheek. “When I’m done, you’ll be better than any of the robins. You’ll be my sidekick, and you’ll do as I say, am I clear?”

“F… fuck.” Harper whimpered.

“Am I clear?”

“Yes! Y… yes.”

“Good girl, now pull down your pants.”

Harper groaned as Kate released her, hands shaking as they reached beneath her and unbuckled her belt. Her cheeks burned as she pulled her pants down to her knees, biting her lip as Batwoman grabbed her underwear and tugged. “Hhhn… B… Batwoman.”

“Shush.” Kate hissed, yanking down Harper’s panties and spreading her cheeks with her thumbs. “Lesson one, don’t speak when your mentor is teaching.”

“Aah!” Harper squeaked as Kate’s lips brushed against her skin, kissing her asscheek before pushing a hand between Bluebird’s quivering thighs, pushing two fingers against the pulsing mess of her cunt.

Kate’s heart was throbbing with excitement as she pushed her fingers against Harper, feeling the heat and her wetness against her cool skin. It had been so long since she’d actually got laid, let alone been able to domme a partner so completely like she had craved. Harper’s whimper as her fingers pushed inside her was utterly delicious, making Kate’s gleeful grin grow all the wider.

“You’re sopping wet, Harper.” She growled, tangling the girl’s bright blue hair in her fist and pulling her head back, her fingers curling inside Bluebird’s pussy and making her sob with arousal. “Never been treated like this before?”

“Myaah.” Harper croaked, panting for breath as Kate’s fingers worked her with slow, deliberate movements, driving her wild with lust. “N… no.”

“If you do well, we can do this as often as you like.” Kate purred, lips brushing softly against her temple. “And more… I’ll tie you up, collar and leash you like a dog. I’ll take you in every way I know, make you beg me for release. But only if you’re good.”

“I’ll… be good… just don’t… stop.” Harper mumbled, eyes rolling back as Kate yanked her hair again, sending sharp pain flaring through her body even as Batwoman’s fingers pumped into her most sensitive places.

“Swear it.”

“I swear… I swear I’ll be good!” Harper sobbed, panting helplessly, hands unzipping the front of her suit and baring her chest. Kate laughed softly and kissed her cheek, watching as Harper fumbled with the clasp of her bra for a moment before popping it open and freeing the sweet little mounds of her breasts.

Kate released Harper’s hair and moved to her utility belt, pulling out one of her batarangs and snapping it open, pulling the cord that now ran between the two halves tight and tying Harper’s wrists together. She moved back, breaths coming hard and fast as she grinned down at the trembling girl before looking around the rooftop. It was quiet and barren, no other buildings as high as it around. She purred to herself and grabbed Harper by the hips, lifting her up to a sharp yelp of surprise.

“Wh... what are you doing?”

“Shut up.”

“B… but…”

Kate’s hand slapped down on Harper’s rump, the resulting smack was just as satisfying as Harper’s squeak of surprise. She carefully set the bound girl down at the very edge of the building, draping her onto the ledge so that she rested on her chest, knees in the gravel, her ass stuck up and head looking down at the street far below. Harper whimpered, wiggling slightly and earning another smack to her reddening cheeks.

“Try and keep quiet, it would be embarrassing if anyone saw you like this.” Kate growled evilly, her hands stroking over Harper’s rump before spreading her wide and admiring the mess she’d made of her pussy.

Harper clearly took care of herself, the neatly trimmed patch of bright purple hair crowning her pussy spoke to that, Kate licked her lips, anticipating a taste she had been missing for months.

Harper mewed breathlessly as Kate’s lips pushed against her sex, biting her tongue as she stared down at the streets, her cheeks burning with terror and lust. Her fingers flexed uselessly behind her back as Kate’s mouth gently kissed her, brushing against her sopping petals before leaving again, leaving her craving her touch all the more desperately. 

“Please… Batwoman…” she croaked before Kate’s mouth sealed over her sex, tongue diving deep inside her and making her howl with arousal. She bit her lip, stifling her scream as Kate wriggled her tongue deeper, lips smacking against her folds, fingers digging into the welcoming flesh of her ass.

She panted like she was in heat as Kate made out with her cunt, moaning and whining as quietly as she could as she stared out at Gotham. She wasn’t a virgin by any means, fuck, this wasn’t even the first lesbian experience she’d had, but the way Kate was fucking her was driving her insane. Kate’s hand smacked her again, making her bite her lip hard enough to draw blood.

Her eyes widened as Kate withdrew, flicking at her folds with a finger before her lips roamed upwards. Kate’s tongue pushed into her pucker, making Harper’s whole body shake. That was new. She was too surprised to scream, just gasping as Kate pushed deeper inside her. her fingers sunk deep into Harper’s folds at the same time.

“F… fuck.” Harper croaked, squeezing her eyes shut as Kate pushed harder against her, greedily devouring her. “B… Batwoman… don’t stop… don’t stop please!”

Kate purred behind her, her grip on Harper’s hips tightening as she set to work finishing the girl off. Harper was practically shaking beneath her as she grew closer and closer to her orgasm, gushing around her fingers, squeaking and mewling and moaning in just the most adorable way.

Harper’s whimpers drew out into a long high-pitched whine as she came, earning a laugh from Kate as she pulled back and wiped her mouth. “I really needed that.”

“C… can you please pull me back from the edge now?” Harper asked breathlessly. Kate smirked and untied the girl’s wrists, helping her up to her shaking feet and grinning as Harper trembled and blushed up at her. Kate smiled and squeezed her chin a little, tipping her head up and placing a tender kiss on her lips.

“Th… that was… amazing.”

Batwoman smiled and helped her make herself presentable again, gently stroking the girl’s quivering lower lip with a thumb before turning away. “Finish up your patrol, I’ll meet you at the cave tomorrow to start your training.”

“W… wait!” Harper called as Kate shot out her grapple, catching her hand and squeezing. “Y… you… You’re really going to train me?”

“That’s what I said.” Batwoman replied, raising a brow. “Why?”

“I’ve… no one’s ever gone out of their way to help me like this… and you’re not just doing this for sex, right?”

“Not only.” Kate laughed, stepping back from the ledge and pulling her close by the hips. “You’re a beautiful young woman, Harper, I don’t want you out here risking your life without the training to keep you safe, alright?”

Harper blushed happily, brushing some hair out of her face before taking off her mask. “I really like you.”

“And I you, sweetheart.” Kate sighed, kissing her again. “Now, back to patrolling.”

“Tomorrow night, you promise?” Harper asked, letting Kate’s hand go and snapping her mask back in place over her face.

“I promise.” Batwoman smiled, disappearing up into the night sky and soaring away. Harper stood watching the sky for a moment before grinning and darting away, heart pulsing in her chest and imagination full of Batwoman’s beautiful pale body pushing her down into a warm, soft bed.

A Royal Appointment.

Life has been changing for Clea Lamont, ever since she was bred by her pet Savage. Now seven months pregnant she finds the frustrations of maternity interrupted by a summons to the Royal Palace by The Queen herself.

-o-o-o-

“Ma’am!” Jeanie exclaimed, coming into the room to see Clea standing atop a chair, scowling at the bookshelf as she tried to pry a novel from the top shelf. “What on earth are you doing?”

“Trying… to get… this book.” Clea hissed. “But one of you morons had packed them in… too… tight.”

“Ma’am, what if you fell?” Jeanie scolded, pulling her mistress down from the chair onto the floor and quickly fastening the buttons of her shirt so she was actually covered. “I’ve always admired your independence, ma’am, but with you all in a motherly way you really must be more careful. You’ve got the children to think about now after all.”

“Oh, piss off Jeanie.” Clea sneered, pushing her maid aside and cupping her immense belly protectively. Jeanie pursed her lips; cheeks flushed a little as Clea tore her shirt back open to free her chest. “I need new clothes; my breasts are swelling again.”

Jeanie nodded, pausing before she turned to leave. “Ma’am, may I speak freely?”

“If you must.”

“I know you’re frustrated, ma’am. But you’ve been snapping at the staff… more than usual.” Jeanie sighed, “And I think miss Savage’s language has been rubbing off on you.”

“What do you mean?” Clea squinted.

“Er, well, you did call Annie a scrawny cunt on Monday when she misplaced your parasol.” Jeanie winced.

Clea scowled and stalked to her favourite armchair, dropping down heavily and groaning. “I will make an effort to be less… confrontational.” She surrendered, pinching her brow. “I’m hungry, fetch me something.”

“At once, ma’am.” Jeanie nodded, turning and scurrying to the door. She let out a surprised squeak as she found herself staring up at Savage and disappeared down the hall as the imposing slave-girl moved past her to smile down at her mistress.

“Everything alright, mistress?”

“Perfectly fine, dear.” Clea sighed, resting a palm over her swollen stomach and petting it. “Just a tad frustrated.”

“Not long now.” Savage cooed, kneeling and slowly reaching out to place her hand over Clea’s. “Another two months.”

“And then what? Pregnancy has made my body flourish, but it will be weeks before I’m fit to be seen in public once the little brats are born.”

Savage’s brow furrowed and she pursed her lips, recoiling from Clea’s belly. “I… I thought ye were… happy that we were havin’ a family?”

“I am too young for a life of domesticity.” Clea sniffed. “Being shackled to this house by these dependants is precisely why I detest men. So eager to ruin my body and trap me into a life of maternity. And yet here I sit, fat and bloated and utterly useless.”

“I… I understand, mistress.” Savage mumbled.

Clea sighed and rolled her eyes, taking her slave girl by the ear and tugging her close. “You did this to me, Savage. You don’t get to feel sorry for yourself.”

Savage sighed. “Of course, mistress.”

“Oh hush, come here and let me see my favourite plaything.” Clea smiled, releasing the girl’s ear and licking her lips. Savage blushed with pleased embarrassment and stood, presenting her cock to her mistress, coaxing it to attention with a hand. For all her talk, Clea’s eyes sparkled with excitement as Savage draped her meat over her palm.

Savage bit back a moan as her mistress’ lips slipped over her cock, her tongue toying with the sensitive flesh at the base of her head. She didn’t mind Clea’s attitude, her mistress’ supposed anger was mostly out of habit. She ranted and raged about her pregnant state, how it would ruin her figure, how it made her ache and how she’d have to look after the children, but Savage saw how she caressed herself at night as they shared their bed, how she sang to herself and smiled as she looked at the nursery. Savage knew she would miss the soft maternal glow in her mistress’ eyes once their children were born. As for all her talk about being ‘too young’, Clea was approaching thirty-nine. Women her age were either long with family or were firm in their intentions not to have one. It was mostly vanity that kept her acting like a woman half her age.

“Mistress, I came to remind ye of our appointment this afternoon, you haven’t forgotten, have ye?”

“Of course not.” Clea snapped. “It isn’t for hours yet, and I’m hungry.” She returned to slathering Savage’s rod, making it explicit just what she was hungry for.

“I… assumed you would want to be prepared with time in hand.” Savage continued, letting out a whimper of excitement as a hand cupped her balls, squeezing tenderly. “I… I’ve been… bathed and… prepared already.” Clea sighed and glanced over her lover. She did look excellent, raging mane of fiery hair washed and conditioned and sculpted into its wild shape. Her muscular body had been bathed and oiled and treated so her skin practically shone. Her finest bonds had been slipped around her throat, wrists and ankles, quality leather all embroidered with Clea’s initials, just to hammer home who owned the magnificent northerner.

Clea redoubled her effort, slurping up and down Savage’s rod until it pulsed and spewed a thick, potent load into her mouth. She’d come to adore the taste of her Savage’s spunk over the past year and a half, and enjoyed it whenever she pleased, sometimes direct from the source, sometimes from a fine goblet she had Savage masturbate into, once even over her meal. She swallowed and licked her lips, placing a few soft kisses against Savage’s throbbing rod to clean it up.

“Very well, I suppose it will take a little longer to prepare than usual anyway, we may as well start.”

Savage smiled, cheeks burning, and helped her mistress up out of her seat.

-o-o-o-

“I think I might be getting’ used to these carriages.” Savage said half-heartedly as she assisted Clea up into the seat. 

Her mistress had been made into the pinnacle of pregnant beauty, somehow combining elegance and her maternal glow with her outfit. Her dress was a dark green, low cut to show her cleavage and tight against her belly. It flowed down to her ankles and ended with a neat golden trim in the pattern of a celtic knot. Clearly, she had been saving the dress for an important occasion, which this was of course.

Clea huffed and toyed with her necklace, shuffling in her seat impatiently. She was nervous, Savage could tell, and perhaps rightly so. She reached out and took Clea’s hand, squeezing her gently. Her mistress allowed herself a small smile and cuddled closer, resting her head on a freckled shoulder.

The trip was long and uncomfortable for both women, for Clea due to poor support and for Savage thanks to the usual nausea that travelling gave her. Clea at least managed to hide her discomfort as she stepped from the carriage and stared up at the royal palace. She took a breath and smoothed her hair before yanking Savage’s leash, marching her up to the gates where their escort waited to take them to the Queen.

“Your Majesty.” Clea purred, bowing her head as they entered a small, cosy lounge off to the side of the royal residences. “You’ll forgive me if I don’t curtsey?” The Queen smiled slightly and nodded, eyeing Savage as she knelt and bowed her head before rising and standing to attention.

She was not as Savage had anticipated. The stories and portraits had always painted a picture of a stern, powerful woman. As skilled in diplomacy as she was at statesmanship. What Savage saw was a small, kind-faced, steel-haired woman. She wore a simple black dress and pearls, with a small, sleek golden circlet nestled in her hair.

“Ah, Rosie!” Clea grinned, enjoying the immediate scowl Lady Marron gave her from her seat across the lounge. “So good to see you after so long! How have you been?”

“Perfectly well, lady Lamont.” Ambrose smiled coldly.

“I’d heard you two knew each other.” The Queen smiled, sitting behind her desk and lacing her fingers. “I hadn’t realised you were friends, that’s good, it will make your task all the easier.”

“Oh, we’re fast friends your majesty.” Clea cooed, “Almost inseparable Rosie and I.”

“I envy you, lady Lamont.” The Queen sighed sadly; her eyes drifted to Savage again. “In more ways than one… she is yours?”

“My one and only.” Clea purred as Savage helped her down into one of the chairs, stroking her cheek fondly. “She is magnificent, isn’t she?”

“She is.” The Queen breathed. “Would you mind if I…?”

“No, please.” Clea chuckled, “Be my guest. It would be an honour for you to enjoy her, your majesty.”

“Hmm, don’t be so keen lady Lamont.” The Queen breathed, beckoning Savage to her desk and reaching out to wrap her hand around her manhood. “I’m already tempted to purchase this beast from you and add her to our stables.”

“Your majesty keeps northern girls?” Clea frowned.

“Since my husband passed away, I required… company.” The Queen sighed, running a hand down over Savage’s belly, marvelling at the strength of her muscles. Her fingers tangled in the short nest of red hairs that crowned Savage’s rod, toying with it for a moment before sighing and releasing her. “Forgive me, I’m a lonely old woman.”

“Your majesty, you are barely fifty.” Clea laughed, “And your beauty remains just as it was when you were twenty, if only we were all so lucky.”

“Hah, I was warned you were a flatterer.” The Queen smiled. “I wonder if all the other rumours are true?”

“You refer to my children?” Clea said, losing her smile in an instant.

“Some say they were fathered by your pet here.” Lady Marron said pointedly. “But you wouldn’t stoop so low, would you now… friend?”

“Rosie my love, you know there’s no limit to how low I’ll ‘stoop’” Clea replied sharply, hands moving to her pregnancy. “The children are Savage’s. If I am to have a family, I would prefer it be sired by one I love, rather than some cocksure male who would chain me away behind my motherhood.”

The Queen looked a little startled and cleared her throat. “I… suppose that’s understandable. I was required to marry and to bear my husband’s heirs… there was a time I was resentful of that and the… expectations thrust upon me.”

“And I really must thank you, Rosie.” Clea smiled humourlessly. “If your pet hadn’t attacked my dear Savage, she would not have had to leap to my defence. And I would not have seen what an excellent father she would be.”

Lady marron’s scowl deepened, her grip on the armrest of her chair tightening.

The Queen cleared her throat. “I feel I owe you both an explanation for why I summoned you, if we might get down to business?”

“Of course, your majesty.” Both women said at once.

The Queen frowned but shrugged and rang a bell. A pair of soldiers marched in, leading a woman by a chain. They shackled her to the edge of the desk and bowed, before leaving. The woman roared into her gag and thrashed about in her bonds, pulling against the chains and sending her whole body shaking. Savage let out a quiet gasp as she watched the newcomer stop fighting and glare around the room with smouldering eyes.

She was incredible, the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. Strong and sexy and burning with a fury that only made her all the more captivating. Behind a mane of silky black locks, dark eyes and full lips hid. Her body was full and feminine, with mighty breasts that heaved with every angry breath she took, and wide hips that shook her fat, round rear as she stamped against the ground. Her cock was pulsing with arousal as she fought, standing to attention, the thickness and length of Clea’s own forearm.

“Oh my.” Savage heard her mistress coo. She turned to see Clea staring at the newcomer as well, a look of ravenous hunger on her face she had never seen before. Clea wanted this woman like she’d never wanted anything in all the time Savage had been hers.

“Where did you find her.” Ambrose breathed, equally enraptured.

The Queen smiled. “Two weeks ago, a number of the northern tribes banded together with the intention of attacking Oban. They elected themselves a king, this was his queen. When my generals put down this little rebellion, they took her as spoils of war, and delivered her to me. I would greatly like to enjoy her, but as you can see, she is uniquely… wilful.”

The woman yanked at her chains and managed to move the heavy oak desk an inch, helpfully proving the Queen’s point.

“You want me to break her in for you?” Clea asked eagerly.

“I would like for the two of you to subdue her, yes.” The Queen replied. “The two of you have a reputation for exceeding at this sort of thing. I am employing you both to bring this creature under control.”

Clea laughed and shook her head. “Your majesty, I’m honoured, but really I am quite capable of handling this alone.”

“Excuse me?” Ambrose snapped. 

“Oh darling, let’s not embarrass ourselves.” Clea grinned, patting Savage’s ass sharply, “I have broken in not only this delicious thing, but five others equally as wilful. Whereas you… well, the fiasco last February speaks for itself.”

“Ladies, please.” The Queen sighed, “You will work together to break this lovely thing in. Do I make myself clear?”

“If you insist, your majesty.” Ambrose smiled weakly.

“Wonderful.” The Queen said brightly, standing and smoothing down her dress. “I have arranged your accommodation here in the palace for your stay, this office will be yours to use.” She nodded quickly before striding out, leaving the two women and two savages alone.

“Well I suggest you go get comfortable, Rosie.” Clea said, snapping for Savage to help her up out of her chair. “I’ll handle this.”

“So speaks the woman seven months pregnant.” Ambrose hissed, “How do you propose to tame this beast when you can’t even get out of a chair without help?”

“I have my ways.” Clea purred, stroking a hand through Ambrose’s short black locks. “Go rest up, sweetheart. You need your beauty sleep.”

“Every time I think your ego cannot possibly grow larger you manage to surprise me.” Ambrose growled. “You are lucky I am above this. Fighting with a pregnant heifer like you is a waste of my time.” She turned on her heel and stalked away.

Clea sniffed and took Savage’s hand, pushing her down onto the chair and mounting her. “M… mistress?”

“No more talk.” Clea sighed, hiking her dress up and sliding Savage’s rod into her waiting cunt. She let out a low croon of delight and smiled. “Ah… and that makes it all better.”

“Mistress, I worry this won’t end well.” Savage groaned, Clea rolling her hips urgently against her, belly pushing against Savage’s muscular abdomen. “Th… this woman would be a challenge even… if… ye weren’t distracted.”

“Distracted?” Clea hissed, fingers pinching Savage’s ear and squeezing until the girl whined beneath her. “I am not distracted.”

“Y… yer... hurting me.” Savage growled, her grip on Clea’s hips tightening in response.

“And you’re insulting me.”

“Ye have a habit of showing off where Lady Marron is concerned, mistress.” Savage said, baring her teeth in a pained snarl, pushing herself up into her mistress a little harder. Clea moaned and released her, taking her cheeks and kissing her as she bounced. “I just… worry.”

“Just fuck me you animal.” Clea rasped.

“As you wish, mistress.” Savage sighed defeatedly, bringing a hand to Clea’s neckline and freeing her breasts, kneading one of the heavy fleshy orbs until she felt wetness against her palm. “You… you’re leaking, mistress.”

“S… stop… stop it.” Clea groaned, “On… on my back.”

“Yes mistress.” Savage obeyed, lifting Clea up by the hips and laying her down on the couch, taking up position and pumping inside, desperate to release the throbbing pressure building in her loins. A thin stream of creamy milk was oozing from one of her nipples. Savage rolled the wetness between her fingers before stroking her hand back over the soft orb of flesh and continuing to play with it.

“Ahn! S… Savage… cum inside me!” Clea demanded, hands locking around Savage’s throat, trying to strangle her but not having the strength. Savage merely growled and bowed her head, jabbing her hips forwards into Clea one last time and letting loose, spewing a load of her sperm deep into Clea’s twat.

Clea crooned with delight and moved her hands away from Savage’s neck, cupping her belly and basking in the warmth of her sperm inside her. “Mistress, I really am worried. Won’t you please be careful?”

“Stop trying to hide your accent and ask me again.” Clea grinned, eyes still closed.

Savage pursed her lips. “Mistress, I really think ye should be a wee bit more careful here. This woman seems dangerous, an’ ye can’ be getting’ distracted by Lady Marron.” She paused. “Especially because yer carryin me babies.” Clea giggled and patted her cheek.

“There we go.”

“Mistress please.” Savage whined as Clea sat up and dabbed at her breasts with one of the cushions of the lounge.

“I will try not to show off too much, darling.” Clea sighed, standing up cautiously and smoothing down her dress. She moved cautiously over to where the woman was standing, watching the two of them with a venomous glare. “Now, as for you.” she smiled. “You are beautiful, I truly mean it. You are a work of art. It will be a pleasure breaking you in for her majesty.”

The woman looked her up and down, nose wrinkling as a low growl echoed through her gag. Clea sighed and patted her cheek, grinning as she jerked away. “In time, you’ll be as good a slave as my Savage, if not better.”

Another growl escaped the gag and the woman reached out to grab Clea, falling short thanks to the chains. Clea sighed and turned, taking Savage’s dangling leash and leading her from the room.

-o-o-o-

“Mmmhm.” Clea moaned, laughing as Savage’s tongue explored her sex. “You’re getting better.”

“I practice, mistress.” Savage breathed pushing her lips to Clea’s glistening clit and suckling.

“With whom?” Clea frowned, forcing herself up and scowling down at her redheaded pet.

“Jeanie… and Annie.” Savage blushed. “And Clara, once.”

“My staff is sleeping with my slave.” Clea growled “I’ll have to see to that.”

Savage straightened up between Clea’s legs, brushing back some hair and smiled slightly as Clea’s hands moved to replace her tongue. “Hmmm, I didn’t tell you to stop.” the Savage girl sighed and pushed closer, kissing Clea’s belly gently.

“May I please hold you?”

“How will you do that with your cock inside me?” Clea asked.

“I could use my fingers?”

Clea chuckled and tilted her head. “I suppose that’ll do, for now.” Savage smiled and nuzzled close, pressing her lips to Clea’s cheek as her hand moved to push inside Clea’s petals. “Hello there, my darling.” Clea cooed, turning her head and rubbing noses with her pet.

“Hello, mistress.”

“Mmmm. Your fingers are working me wonderfully, love.” Clea sighed, eyes squeezed closed with contentment.

“Have ye noticed yer appetites growing since ye got pregnant, mistress?”

“Are you complaining, sweet?”

“I never complain, mistress.”

“No… you’re a good obedient girl.” Clea sighed. She reached up and began toying with her nipples, soon she was lactating again, sweet-smelling milk coating her fingers as she played with the over-sensitive nubs. She glanced down at her fingers and smiled, bringing it up to her lips and sucking on it. Savage frowned; forehead pressed against Clea’s silver-blonde hair.

“Why would you do that?”

“It’s rather nice.” Clea said thoughtfully. “Try some.”

“Mistress, I’d rather not.” Savage said, nose wrinkling.

“Aren’t you an obedient girl, Savage?”

“I… am.” Savage sighed, allowing her head to be guided down to Clea’s breast and to her teat. Her lips slowly parted and latched onto the puffy pink thing, she hesitated a moment before sucking. Clea’s milk was sweet and creamy, not at all what Savage had expected. She pulled away and made a face, rolling the flavour over her tongue. Clea giggled and stroked her cheek.

“Was that nice?”

“Honestly, mistress.” Savage said, “I can’t say.”

“Hmm, w… well. just keep using those fingers of yours, I’m… close.” Savage nodded and focussed her attention on pumping her fingers deep into Clea’s snatch, her thumb flicking against her clit as she moaned and panted like a wanton slut. Savage was almost painfully hard, throbbing against Clea’s thigh as she fingerfucked her mistress. “Oh yes! Savage you slut! Don’t stop! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Clea howled as she came, falling back into the pillows and cooing softly. Her thighs quivered as her petals pulsed, sopping wet and stinking of her arousal. Savage couldn’t help but lick her lips as she pulled her hand free of the mess, admiring the wetness covering her digits before lapping them clean.

Things were quiet for a few moments before sat up, slipping from the bed and slipping into her negligée, a tiny, frilly, semi-transparent thing Clea that blossomed at the front as her belly protruded outwards. “Sleep well, my darling Savage.” Clea cooed. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

“I should come with you, mistress.” Savage pouted.

“Love, I’m pregnant, not an invalid.” Clea tutted. “I’ll be fine, just sleep.”

-o-o-o-

She moved almost silently, bare feet stepping softly on the carpet up to the door into Ambrose’s suite. She nibbled her lip with excitement, thinking about what she might see when she opened the door. Would Ambrose be nude? Or would she be in underwear? Or a negligee like her own. Oh, to see those long, long legs bare and soft. Or those elegant little breasts so often concealed by tight dresses. She giggled quietly and pushed open the door.

Ambrose looked up, startled, mouth open ready to scream before she saw Clea and scowled. She slammed down the book she had been reading on the side table hard enough to make the candle flicker. “What do you think you’re doing Lamont? I knew you were a pervert, but this is a new low.”

“Good evening Rosie.” Clea smiled, slipping inside and closing the door behind her.

“Get out of my bedroom.” Ambrose scowled. “Or I’ll call for the guards. Do you really want to humiliate yourself in front of the Queen?”

“I only want to talk.”

Ambrose sneered and sat up, “Well, I don’t want to speak to you, so leave.”

“Why are you so cold, Rosie?” Clea asked, feigning a hurt expression and toying with her hair. “I just want to be your friend.”

“You don’t have friends, Clea.” Ambrose growled, “You have playthings. You tease and torment and poke fun at people, that doesn’t make you friends with them, it just means they have a higher tolerance for you than others.”

“You wound me.”

“The truth hurts, I suppose.”

Clea sighed and flashed a grin, fingering the books on the bookshelf suggestively. “My Savage just ravished my sex with her fingers. She has such a talent for making me cum.”

“How wonderful for you.” Ambrose sighed, picking up her book and bringing it between Clea and her face. Clea smiled, padding slowly closer.

“She’s so big, and so very passionate. I’ve never been taken so deeply in all my life.”

“That must be nice.”

“And for all her muscle, she’s so wonderfully tender.”

“Mm hmm.”

“The night she impregnated me was incredible. We’d just left your ball; she had humiliated your little blonde filth. I had her in the carriage all the way to my home, she fucked me so hard I thought the carriage might tip. I was pinned, helpless against the wall as she ravished me, so deep and so hard I almost broke. When she came it was like a flood. Searing hot. It made me glow inside for hours. When she pulled out at last, it poured out of my sex like a waterfall. God the smell won’t ever leave me, I’ll remember how wonderful it was until the day I die.”

Clea reached the end of the bed and crawled up onto it, her belly brushing against Ambrose’s feet as she advanced on her hands and knees. “I have her almost every day now, Rosie. In my study, in my bed, sometimes I take her in the garden. I let her mate with me like a beast until we’re spent. I drink her sperm like nectar, I consume her lust like a feast. If only you had a girl like her, you could know just how wonderful it feels sometimes to just get fucked.”

“Will you stop!” Ambrose shouted, voice hoarse and embarrassed. Her cheeks were burning a dark red as the book came down and Clea saw her face. “St… stop it.”

“Oh Rosie, I just want us to be friends… is that so bad?” Clea cooed, taking hold of the covers and yanking them down. Ambrose let out a strangled shriek of terror and tried to snatch them back, making Clea giggle as they wrestled over the fabric. She took the opportunity to admire Ambrose’s slim, subtle body. From her marvellous jaw to those lovely tiny breasts over her belly to… to…

Her grip on the covers loosened and Ambrose fell back, clutching the covers to her chest. There were tears sparkling in her eyes. “G… get out! Go away!”

Clea blinked in confusion. “I don’t…”

“Don’t talk, just… get… out!” Ambrose howled.

“You’re a man?” Clea frowned. It seemed impossible, but it was true. She’d seen Ambrose’s cock hanging between her legs, slim and small and semi-hard from Clea’s lewd monologue. It wasn’t like Savage’s, or any of the other dickgirls from the north. Those cocks were huge and potent, strangely unnatural yet so very, very enticing. Ambrose’s cock was… normal. A little small perhaps, but ultimately normal.

“Get out!” Ambrose sobbed.

“I don’t understand.” Clea said quietly. “I… you’re not like Savage… you’re… male?”

“I’m not!” Ambrose snapped, embarrassment and sadness melting into fury in an instant. “I’m not! I’m Ambrose Marron and I’m a woman and if you tell anyone I’ll… I’ll…”

“I… I’m sorry.” Clea mumbled, “I didn’t know.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. To not belong in your own body.” Ambrose sniffed. “I was always… wrong. I grew up knowing something wasn’t right and… and when I found out what, when I started being Ambrose… it was all so clear.”

Clea reached out and gently took her hand, squeezing it. Ambrose looked at her suspiciously but didn’t pull away. “I had to live as someone I wasn’t for ten years before my parents died and I inherited the family fortune.” She said quietly. “Now I can be me… everything was going so well… I suppose that’s all ruined now.”

“Why?”

“You expect me to believe you’ll keep this quiet, Lamont?” Ambrose sniffed. “Even if you don’t just expose me outright, you’ll let my secret slip eventually, and my life might as well end.”

Clea leaned close and pressed her lips to Ambrose’s. The kiss was slow and tender before it broke, leaving Ambrose blushing, mouth slack in a confused pant. “I…”

“I always thought you were so beautiful.” Clea breathed, “That you were different. Now I know I was right.”

“What are you doing?”

“Kissing you.” Clea hummed, hands moving up to Ambrose’s bra, unhooking it easily with well-practiced fingers. “May I?”

“I… y… yes?”

Clea’s hands quickly discarded the lacy thing and began to explore the small mounds of Ambrose’s breasts, petting and kneading them with the upmost care before she ducked down and began to tease her nipple between her teeth.

“C… Clea… what are you doing?” Ambrose whined.

“I can stop, if you want?”

“N… No, I just… why?”

“I wasn’t just teasing you for fun, Ambrose.” Clea hummed, pushing herself snugly against the trembling woman. She could almost feel the poor thing’s racing heart against her as her breasts all but swallowed Ambrose’s own little things. A hand moved gently down and took hold of Ambrose’s cock, drawing a startled gasp from her lips. “Is it alright if I touch?”

“Yes.” Ambrose croaked, stifling a moan as Clea’s hand began to work up and down her shaft. Clea gently tipped Ambrose’s head back with her free hand and began suckling her way around her jawline down her throat to her collarbone. 

“I’m sorry if I was an ass.” Clea murmured, lips leaving little red marks behind as she worked around Ambrose’s neckline. Ambrose quivered, body rocking against Clea’s immense belly as her hand moved back and forth over her length. “I like to tease, but it’s only for fun. If I made your life harder, I’m truly sorry.”

“It’s… It’s alright.”

“You are so beautiful.” Clea sighed, gently pushing forwards and kissing Ambrose again. This time she was not so stunned as to fail to kiss her back. This time there were hands carefully pulling at Clea’s shoulders, this time Ambrose’s lips pushed against Clea’s with hunger.

Beneath them, Ambrose’s cock pulsed. Clea looked down and moaned as Ambrose shot her load over her belly and over Clea’s hip. She whined quietly and fell back, allowing Clea to scoop up the mess and clean it away.

“W… wait, where are you going?” Ambrose croaked as Clea sashayed towards the door.

“My pet will wonder where I have got to, beautiful.” Clea smiled. “If she comes to find me, it might raise questions about you.”

She paused in the doorway and smiled, “Don’t worry, we’ll be working very closely these next few days.” She cooed over her shoulder, blowing a kiss before disappearing.

The Chief's Thanks

After the end of Korra's first year as avatar, Amon is defeated, Korra has learned airbending and the avatar has returned Lin's bending to her. As thanks, the normally no-nonsense chief of police decides to take Korra's virginity as thanks for restoring her powers.

-o-o-o-

“Where are we going?” Korra called, raising a confused brow as she pulled herself up over the edge of the cliff and brushing herself down. Lin ignored her, already up on her feet and marching on ahead. “Lin? Chief Beifong?”

“Come on, Avatar.” Lin snapped.

Korra pouted and picked herself up, following Lin into the trees that capped the ridge overlooking the air temple. “What’s this all about, Lin? You never come here unless there’s something wrong.”

“Avatar if don’t stop running your mouth, I’ll shut it for you.” the older woman growled, sliding down a short grassy bank onto a ledge overlooking the bay. Korra paused and admired the view, republic city shimmering in the sunset light, the bay humming peacefully below them. The breeze carried the scent of the sea, bringing memories of life back at the southern water tribe. She smiled to herself, suddenly the climb from the main island around to this separate peak seemed worth it. “Get down here.”

And the moment was gone.

Korra huffed and pumped down, folding her arms as Lin scowled at her. With the sun glowing about her, her silver hair shining and her stern profile basking in the gentle light, she looked pretty goddamn magnificent. Korra’s cheeks flushed and she directed her attention back out to sea. “This place is beautiful.”

“It is, and isolated.” Lin nodded, a small smile coming to her lips. “I used to come here a lot when I was younger.”

“Like for secret training or something?” Korra asked before grinning. “Are you gonna teach me to metalbend!?”

Lin raised an incredulous brow and sighed. She adjusted her armour and pointed at the cliffside. “Go sit over there, close your eyes, meditate.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Resist the urge to push you off.” Lin sniffed. “Go sit. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

Korra squinted suspiciously at her but shrugged and sat by the edge of the cliff. The soft grass murmured in the wind, below the sea crashed against the stones of the island, Korra cleared her mind and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds.

A few minutes passed and Korra sighed, scrunching up her nose as impatience boiled inside her. Apparently being an airbender now hadn’t improved her patience.

“You can turn around now, Avatar.”

Korra sighed, “You know, it wouldn’t kill you to use… my… n… name.” she said, turning around and trailing off as she saw the scene in front of her. Lin was draped over a blanket, mature, muscular body nude and bathed in dusk light. In one hand was a bottle of wine, in the other, two glasses. Korra’s cheeks burned as she stared, dumbfounded, at the chief’s body.

For her age, Lin was in incredible shape. Her body was tight and toned, her breasts full and firm. Korra’s eyes drifted helplessly down over her bust and over her abs to the neat patch of silver hair crowning her sex. “Wh… wha?” she managed to splutter.

“Come here.” Lin commanded.

“Uh huh.” Korra nodded, stumbling closer and sinking to her knees on the blanket beside Lin, eyes still staring stupidly at her naked form. “Um… I… I don’t.”

“Drink.” Lin said, ignoring her and pushing a glass into her hand.

“I… I’m not old enough to drink.” Korra mumbled.

“Drink up, Avatar.” Lin sighed, clinking her glass with her before drinking. Korra brought the glass up to her lips and took a tentative sip. It wasn’t the first time she’d had wine; she’d had a little with her parents once or twice. It was nice, and it gave her something to do other than gawp at Lin.

“N… naked?” she managed after a moment. “Why are you naked?”

“Because I’m going to make love to you, avatar.” Lin said, matter or factly. “Now drink up.”

She reached out and tipped Korra’s glass, forcing Korra to drink until the wine was all gone. Korra gasped as the glass was pulled away from her and spluttered. “Wh... what!?”

“You saved me. You returned my bending to me.” Lin smiled, putting the bottle aside and rolling onto her side. “So, I’m going to fuck you, as a reward.”

“B… but you don’t like me!” Korra squeaked as Lin’s hands moved to her hip, easily undoing the knot of her fabric belt, brushing aside her leather skirt.

“I respect you, now at least.” Lin sighed, slipping her hands under Korra’s shirt and tugging it upwards over the avatar’s toned dark belly. “Now are you going to keep talking, or are you going to help me undress you?”

Korra blushed and moved her hands to her shirt, yanking it over her head and squeaking as Lin’s lips brushed against her ribs, hands stroking down over her hips and finding her pants. Lin murmured as Korra’s hands awkwardly landed on her shoulders, fingers cling to her skin. She hummed and kissed her way around Korra’s body to her belly, lingering over her bellybutton as her hands grabbed the avatar’s pants and pulled them down to her ankles.

Korra gulped, lying beneath Lin in only her underwear and boots. “L... Lin… I haven’t d... done this before.”

“I know.” Lin hummed, thumbs toying with the flesh of Korra’s hips, tracing the defined v that led down to where a conspicuous damp patch lay waiting. “So, lie back and spread your legs.”

“Lin!” Korra yelped as the chief’s mouth pushed against her underwear, pressing against her sopping cunt through the thin barrier of her panties. “Th… that feels so… weird!”

“Mmmr.” Lin growled softly, kissing the dampness fondly, coaxing a whine of confused arousal from the avatar. “Take of your bra, kid.” Korra whimpered and obeyed, folding her arms embarrassed over her heaving chest as Lin turned her attention to her inner thighs, soft lips brushing against dark brown thighs.

The boots went next, grabbed by Lin and thrown thoughtlessly away before she tore Korra’s pants from around her ankles and tossed them aside as well. Her hands grasped Korra’s ankles and stroked their way upwards to her thighs. The avatar, usually so ready for a quip or a joke, just mewed with stunned arousal as the chief’s mouth moved up over her skin and tugged her panties aside. “L… Lin… w… wait I…” Korra stammered before squealing as Lin’s lips pushed against her quivering sex, tongue sneaking out and exploring her virgin cunt.

“Liiiiiiiiiiin!” Korra cried, hands grabbing the chief’s head, fingers tangling in her steely hair and pulling at her. Lin hissed at Korra’s grip, but ignored her, pulling herself closer against Korra and doubling her efforts. “Oh spirits, oh spirits, oh spirits! Liiiiiin! Don’t stop! Don’t ever stop kissing my pussy!”

Lin sighed to herself, pushing Korra’s legs apart with her shoulders and retreating enough to flick her clit with her tongue. She was almost certain she hadn’t been so useless when it had been her first time, nor had Kya for that matter, and they had been younger than Korra was when they first made love.

“Lin. Don’t stop! It feels so good!”

“I took you out here so we’d have a little privacy.” Lin growled, gently nipping the tender brown flesh of Korra’s inner thigh. “Keep screaming, and someone might hear.”

“B… but it feels so… good!” Korra whined. Lin sighed, and straightened up, brushing her hair back before moving against the avatar, pinning her down on the ground. Korra whimpered as one of Lin’s hands took her jaw, squeezing her whilst the other slid down between her legs and pushed inside. As Korra’s mouth opened with a moan, Lin silenced her with a kiss.

Korra’s startling blue eyes rolled as Lin’s tongue toyed with her own, being assaulted on both sides by the chief’s attention. Her legs quivering as they hooked behind Lin’s back, Korra moaned, fingers clinging to the chief’s shoulders as they kissed. She was a sopping mess as Lin’s fingers drove into her, the sound of the chief’s digits curling and pumping into her making lewd wet sounds as they moved faster and faster.

The kiss broke, Korra’s tongue lolling from her mouth as Lin pulled away and grinning hungrily as she saw just what she had done to the young Avatar. “So, you can shut up.” She purred. “Pity I can’t use that all the time.”

“Lin… kisses.” Korra mumbled.

“You’re close.” Lin sighed, scooping Korra up by the hips and pulling her into her lap. “Here, let’s finish you off like this.” Korra moaned vaguely, still struggling to pull herself back together from the kiss. Lin’s fingers drove up into her, turning her impressive muscles to jelly. The avatar slumped against Lin and sobbed with lust, practically drooling on the chief’s shoulder as she was fingerfucked into stupidity.

The earth shook as the avatar came. The air crackled with electricity. Korra’s own arousal twitched and rose into the air as she threw back her head and howled, twitching in Lin’s lap. Lin smirked and gently supported her as she moaned and quivered, pushing her lips against Korra’s temple and kissing her.

“How was that, Avatar?” Lin asked, stroking a hand through one of Korra’s long brown ponytails. Korra didn’t reply. Lin raised a brow and carefully tipped the girl’s chin up, sighing as she saw Korra’s closed eyes and blissful expression. “Sweet dreams, kid.”

-o-o-o-

“Hmmmm.” Korra sighed. Waking up feeling more amazing than she had in her life. There was a thrill running through her, like the rush of her bending magnified a hundredfold. Her hands reached out as her toes curled and found Lin’s hair, stroking through it adoringly.

The chief smiled and patted her hip. “You’re awake. I thought I’d have to stay up here all night.”

“Th… that was incredible.” Korra breathed, opening her eyes and pushing herself closer to Lin. “Thank you, so much.”

“Don’t mention it.” Lin replied, staring up at the stars. She grinned and scratched her brow. “Really. Tenzin might just try and kill me now I’ve fucked all four of the most important women in his life.”

“F… four?”

“Pema, Kya, Katara, you.” Lin chuckled, tapping her fingers against Korra’s naked thigh with each name. “It’s been a while though. I’m glad to see I haven’t lost my touch.”

“It was amazing.” Korra whined. “C… can we do it again? Please?”

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?” Lin sighed. “Alright, once more. Then you go to bed and I go home.”

Korra cooed with delight as Lin rolled over, slipping down between her legs and licking the length of her throbbing cunt.

Defeating Amon had felt amazing, airbending for the first time had been exhilarating. Lin… Lin had been life changing. Her entire view on life and love and what pleasure could be was transformed, and now as Lin’s lips puckered against her slit, she knew things would never be the same again.

-o-o-o-

“Hey chief, er, the Avatar’s here to see you.”

Lin looked up from her paperwork and nodded, standing up and folding her arms as Korra stepped through the door and slid it closed behind her. “Chief Beifong? Ma’am?”

“No more Lin?” The chief smiled, raising a brow.

Korra’s cheek flushed and she nervously held up a single white lily. “Um… Lin, yes. I… I just wanted to say thanks… for our evening together. It was amazing… really incredible. And I w… wondered if we could… do it… again?”

Lin chuckled and nodded. “That didn’t take long.”

“You… knew I’d come back?” Korra blushed.

“Kid, you may be the Avatar and you may have mastered the four elements but at the end of the day you were a sweet little virgin.” Lin sighed, sitting herself back down and lacing her fingers. “I’m a very busy woman, Avatar. I’m not interested in being your sexual guinea pig.”

“N… no, no I don’t…” Korra stammered, “Lin… you… you made me feel something I’d never even imagined before and now I don’t think I can stop. I want more… I need more and I want you to be the one to give it to me? I don’t want a teacher I want…” Korra trailed off, cheeks burning darkly. Lin sighed and beckoned her closer, plucking the flower from her hand and admiring it. She looked up at the young avatar and shook her head, smiling to herself as she saw the desperate look on Korra’s beautiful face.

“You want more of the same?”

“Yes.” Korra breathed, “M… more than anything, Lin.”

“You want me to lie you down and fuck you, you want me to lead you, control you. tell you what to do, what to say, what to think? You want me to take you, to use you for my pleasure? For my amusement?” Korra squirmed but didn’t disagree. “You don’t want a partner; you want a mistress. Is that it?”

Korra nodded mutely, wringing her hands together. “I… I’ve never felt anything… like it Lin.”

“If you want it you earn it.” Lin snapped, standing up like a shot and making Korra squeak with surprise. She stalked closer and pushed Korra against the wall, squeezing her jaw tight. “You obey my commands; you call me chief or mistress or ma’am. You do what I want, when I want it done.” Korra stared stunned at her, big blue eyes wide and sparkling with excitement. Lin smiled and kissed her open mouth, patting her cheek. “And you show me that pretty smile when I do. Hmm?”

“Y… yes ma’am.” Korra breathed as Lin released her.

The chief smiled and straightened out the avatar’s outfit before patting her rear. “Run along then, Avatar. I’ll call when I want you.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Korra nodded, turning and scurrying out of Lin’s office with a puddle between her legs.

Check-Up

After a long day, Angela Ziegler finds Moira paying a visit to her office. Overworked and exhausted, Angela snaps at Moira, who gets to work 'relaxing' her.

-o-o-o-

Angela sighed and brushed a hand through her hair, staring down at the screens on her desk. It had been a long, hard day of work at the clinic and she was more than ready to go home and take a bath. Almost 50 patients had made their way through the clinics doors for her to see to, and she had done so with a smile on her face, but now she was ready for the day to end.

She swept up her papers and filed them neatly away, took down some final notes and shut down her computer. As she began to put together her things in her bag the door clicked open, she sighed and waved an irritated hand in the air. “I’m done for today, Doctor Chen. I should have been out of here half an hour ago.”

“Ah, long day, love?”

Angela straightened up and turned to see Moira leaning against the doorframe, an infuriatingly smug smile on her face. She scowled and pulled her inside, shutting the door before turning to the ginger.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. 

Moira shrugged innocently, before grinning. “I’ve had this terrible pain in my back these last few days, I thought I could do with a check-up.”

“So, you came all the way from Oasis?” Angela asked, unimpressed.

Moira’s crooked grin grew wider. “Well I only trust the best.”

Angela’s eyes narrowed. She was tired and stressed and overworked and entirely uninterested in playing any games. She forced a bright smile and stepped over to the cupboards, pulling out a syringe and tearing off its packaging.

“Well Doctor O’Deorain, if it’s a full check-up you need, I’m happy to help.” She said, moving towards Moira and brandishing the syringe threateningly. “Let’s start with your blood test, shall we?”

“Ah, yes, well you see… ahem, the… the thing about that is…” Moira laughed nervously, backing away until she was against Moira’s desk.

“Roll up your sleeve.”

“Ok, ok Angela!” Moira said quickly, raising her hands in surrender. “No need for any of that, I yield.” Angela sniffed and set down the syringe on the desk, scowling up at Moira who at least had the curtesy to look a little sheepish.

“Why are you here, Moira?”

The willowy ginger sighed and leant back against the desk, loosening her tie with a miscoloured hand. “I wanted to see you, that’s all. The next conference was coming a little too slowly for my liking.”

Angela sighed tiredly and shook her head. “Moira… I haven’t heard a word from you since last time we met, and that was two months ago.”

“I remember it well.” Moira purred before Angela’s stern expression quickly sobered her.

“You can’t just show up at my workplace without warning, Moira!” She growled, “Especially after ghosting me for three months! It’s not fair and I won’t stand for it.”

“I’m sorry.” Moira nodded, “You’re right. I just wanted to see you.”

“I don’t mean to snap.” Angela breathed, dropping into her chair and rubbing her eyes. “It’s been a long day.” Moira smiled and knelt down by Angela’s feet, hands gently taking a leg and pulling it straight.

“Tell me?”

“Moira, what are you doing?”

“Don’t worry, just tell me.” Moira smiled, slipping Angela’s shoe off her foot and rubbing her thumbs against her stockinged flesh. Angela sighed, biting back a low groan of satisfaction as Moira massaged her aching feet.

“It’s just been a long day.” She said, “The clinic is supposed to supplement the hospitals, pick up any slack, but with all the financial troubles and all the staff layoffs, we’re overstretched.”

“You don’t have the equipment?”

“We don’t have the time.” Angela groaned, biting her lip as Moira’s fingers attacked the little knots of stress. “I saw almost fifty people today; I haven’t taken a break once. I’ve had to eat between appointments because I haven’t had time for lunch.”

“I’ll take you to dinner.” Moira smiled up at her, “My treat.”

“That’d be nice.” Angela cooed, “Just… keep going.”

Moira grinned to herself and kissed Angela’s ankle before setting down her foot and gently taking the other. She neatly slid the blonde’s shoes away and ran her hands over the soft fabric of her stockings before taking her foot and setting to work.

“Has it been this chaotic all the time since we last met?”

“No, just these past weeks.” Angela breathed, eyes closed as she leant back in her chair. “A… and you? How have you been?”

“Very well, thank you.” Moira purred, allowing her hand to roam a little higher up Angela’s leg, stroking her calf gently. “Though I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind.”

“O…oh?” Angela asked.

“You strike an impressive figure in that suit of yours.” Moira moaned, lips brushing against the blonde’s stockings. “Even more so when you were in my bed. A gorgeous golden angel half-naked and begging for my tongue.”

Angela’s breath hitched as Moira pushed herself between her thighs and stroked her hands up over her legs to her hips. Her lips made their way bit-by-bit over her leg, kissing up her calf to behind her knee to the pale, sensitive flesh of Angela’s inner thigh. “M… Moira, wait.” The ginger paused, lips pressed against creamy flesh, mismatched eyes looking quizzically up at the blushing blonde. “Th… this is my workplace… it’s inappropriate.”

“Yes.” Moira nodded, smiling up at her. “And your point is?”

“You’re… a menace.” Angela growled weakly, ignoring Moira’s hand as it slipped over the curve of her hip to the swell of her ass. “This isn’t Talon, there are rules. If anyone finds out I’ll lose my job, I’ll be disgraced!”

“Then I’ll be very, very careful and very, verrrry gentle.” Moira purred, moving close enough to rest her chin against Angela’s chest, flashing her usual dazzling smile. “Don’t you trust me?”

Angela sighed and cupped Moira’s cheek, fingers running through her deep orange hair. She tried to resist, she really did, but Moira had the uncanny ability to completely obliterate her common sense whenever she looked at her with those sultry red-blue eyes. She blushed and withdrew her hands, chewing her lip as her fingers moved to the top button of her shirt and opened it.

Moira grinned and nuzzled against Angela’s breast, long fingers sinking into the tightly contained orb of flesh before her attention wandered downwards. “You’re so fun to corrupt.” She cooed, hands gliding over Angela’s thighs under her skirt before unzipping her and pulling it aside. Above her, Angela let out a weak groan of defiance that would have been much more convincing had her fingers not been toying with her own nipples.

“Ahn! M… Moira!” Angela squeaked as Moira’s lips pushed against her panties and she carefully bit down on the soft fabric, tugging them down and winking up at her. “Stop that.” she blushed.

“It’s a terrible habit I’ve got, darlin’.” Moira breathed, hands gently spreading Angela’s petals. “Playing with my food.”

“I wish you wouldn’t.” Angela lied.

Moira grinned and placed herself over the blonde’s opening, lips just barely brushing her folds, nose resting in the neatly trimmed patch of golden curls crowning Angela’s sex. She puckered her lips and gently blew on the slick pink flesh, coaxing a low whine from Angela’s lips. A hand grabbed her by the back of her head and suddenly she was pressed snug to the blonde’s snatch.

“Stop teasing!” Angela snapped, voice hoarse with need. Moira sighed through her nose and set to work obediently, tongue snaking past her lips and into Angela’s wetness. As always, her taste was delightful, as were the soft keening mews that escaped from her lips. The grip on Moira’s hair loosened as Angela quickly became distracted, and turned into a gentle caress, fingers raking through deep red hair with her usual tenderness.

The first hand was joined by another as Moira set to work in earnest, clinging and clutching at her as her tongue sunk itself deep into her sex. A pale and a purple hand moved around Angela’s waist to grab her rear, getting a firm grip before pulling away and straightening up. “Wh... what are you?” Angela groaned before letting out a surprised whoop as Moira lifted her up and dumped her heavily onto her own desk. “Moira!”

“Shush, love.” Moira purred, locking Angela into a feral kiss as her hands moved to replace her tongue. Angela whined beneath her, trembling and rocking against her fingers. If the blonde cared that her mouth was being slathered with the taste of her own arousal she didn’t show it, eagerly kissing her back.

Moira crooned with delight as Angela’s hands scrabbled to undo the buttons of her shirt, baring pale freckled flesh. She moved a hand to help the blonde’s blind fingers undress her, shedding her shirt and tossing it aside before guiding Angela’s hands to her bra. Angela tugged helplessly at the clasp, blind and more than a little distracted by the ferocious, passionate kiss she couldn’t bear to break from.

At last Angela succeeded and Moira’s bra tumbled down against her bare belly. Her hands reached out and found the small, sleek mounds of flesh, petting and squeezing them adoringly as Moira’s tongue dominated her.

The Irish doctor released a quiet coo as fingers found rosy nipples and tugged on them urgently, her eyes opening and her head slowly pulling away from Angela. “D… did you bring the… toy?” Angela croaked hopefully as Moira towered over her in all her pale naked glory.

“N… no.” Moira replied softly, yanking Angela’s jacket and shirt wide open before attaching herself to Angela’s collarbone, sucking and kissing at her flesh as her fingers pumped urgently into her sopping entrance.

The smell of sex was thick in the air already, Angela might have cared if she’d noticed, but all she cared about was Moira’s lips against her breast, her chest pushing against her belly, and her fingers sliding easily deep into her cunt. She cried out as Moira’s teeth carefully bit down on her nipple and pulled at it. “M… Moira! Don’t stop!”

“Mhm.” Moira murmured in reply, mouth busy elsewhere. Her cheeks pulled in concave as she sucked on Angela’s tit, leaving behind a perfect mark of her lipstick against the creamy flesh when at last she pulled away.

Angela bit her lip to stifle another loud moan and reached out to take Moira by the cheeks, pulling her close so that their foreheads touched. They stared into each other’s eyes as Moira’s fingers became a blur against Angela’s clit, and the blonde’s groans turned into a lustful pant.

“I… I’m close.” Angela whimpered, clawing at Moira’s cheeks. “F… fuck I’m close!”

“Keep it down, darlin’. I think some of your colleagues are still here.”

Angela’s eyes snapped open wide as Moira’s fingers pushed inside her one last time, her thumb gently swatting her pearl. The scream of orgasm that rolled up from her throat was muffled as she slapped her hands over her mouth, shaking as the waves of pleasure slowly faded into a warm, pleasant glow. Her eyes drifted away from Moira’s tired grin to the door. She stood awkwardly and staggered across the room, tugging her shirt closed over her heaving chest. The corridor outside her office was quiet and empty.

“I was… only teasing, love.” Moira laughed, leaning back against the desk and slicking her hair back out of her flushed face. “You’re the last one here, I made sure.”

Angela let out a weak sigh and turned back to the ginger. “Th… that wasn’t funny.”  She said, hurt.

Moira smiled and beckoned her close, cradling her to her breast as she came and pressed tight against her. “Did you really think I’d risk ruining your career so casually?” The ginger asked.

“I don’t know.” Angela pouted, refusing to look up at her. “That’s what scares me about you.”

Moira’s hands delicately traced little circles over her hips as her lips pushed down against Angela’s blonde locks. “Even if you don’t trust me, trust that I care about you.” She breathed.

“This… this isn’t just physical anymore, is it?” Angela whispered after a while, heart throbbing in her chest so hard she wondered if Moira could feel it pulse against her belly. 

It wasn’t. It hadn’t been for months, at least for Angela. But for Moira? She had no idea. Was this love? Was this convenience? Was this another experiment? Behind all the smiles and snark, Angela hadn’t a clue as to what Moira truly felt about her.

Moira swallowed, fingers roaming upwards to Angela’s ribs and continuing their dance. “Why do you say that?”

“Because of this.” Angela replied slowly, “Because of before, and all the times before that. Because you came here all the way from Oasis. Because of how you touch me and kiss me and make love to me?”

“This isn’t just… I’m… That is to say, we’re only… it’s fun, isn’t it?”

“It was… but maybe now it’s something else?”

“Angela… You don’t like me.” Moira said slowly. “You say it all the time…I’m everything you’re not, how could have feelings me?”

“I don’t know.” Angela whispered, pulling away and cupping Moira’s cheek in her palm. “But I think I do.”

Moira looked like a deer in the headlights, her cheeks darkening even more than they already were. She cleared her throat nervously, hands abandoning Angela’s body and awkwardly hanging in the air. “Angela… I… I just… I’ve never… I don’t know… how… to do this.”

“Do what?” Angela asked.

“I… I’m… I’m a scientist, Angela.” Moira spluttered, “I’ve devoted my life to discovery, whatever the cost. Ever since I was a little girl, I was a scientist. I didn’t play around with boys. Or girls. I played with chemistry sets and drew punnet squares when my classmates played with dolls and drew ponies. I only… started experimenting with… this, out of curiosity.”

“That’s alright.” Angela smiled, petting Moira’s cheek with a thumb.

“No, but… It was just that. And it never worked because it was only curiosity. I’ve never… been in a real relationship before, Angela. I learned how to move, how to talk, how to touch but it’s never been real. I’ve never loved… I don’t know if how I feel when I’m with you is how it’s supposed to be, or if this is something else… I don’t know if I can be what you need me to be.”

“You’re you.” Angela said quietly. “That’s enough.”

“Is it?”

Angela smiled and stood, bringing herself level with Moira. “I’m willing to try and find out, if you are?” Moira reached out and brushed some stray hairs out of Angela’s face, blushing as red as her hair.

“I… I’d like that.”

“When do you have to go back?”

“I have a flight tonight.”

“Miss it.” Angela purred seductively. “Come home with me.”

“I… I’ll take you to dinner.”

“I’m not hungry.”

“Oh… ok.”

They dressed in a trance, the world seeming oddly out of focus as clothes were tugged onto their bodies and they stepped out of Angela’s trashed office holding hands. Moira’s eyes couldn’t leave Angela, like it was the first time she’d ever seen her. Angela couldn’t stop looking down at the purple hand cradled in hers, like it was the most precious thing in the world.

They reached the doors, pushed and paused as they failed to open.

“I… er… They’re locked.” Angela said.

“Do you have a key?” Moira frowned.

“Well… No.”

“We’re locked in.” Moira said, a smile beginning to creep over her face.

“We are.” Angela grinned, suppressing a giggle.

“Wh… what do we do now.” Moira asked, a laugh bubbling up from deep inside her.

“We… we could always… climb out of window.” Angela grinned, clutching a hand to her face as she giggled.

Moira cackled, doubled over. “You first.” She sighed and wiped a tear from her eyes. “I fucking love you Angela Ziegler.”

“I love you, Moira O’Deorain.” Angela grinned, standing on tiptoes to kiss the ginger. “Come on, I’ll find us a window.”

“Lead the way, love.”

-o-o-o-

Morning broke. Sunlight shone through the curtains of Angela’s bedroom, where she and Moira were lying, naked and entangled. Even as they slept, Moira’s hand rested over Angela’s breast, her thigh pushed between the blonde’s legs. Angela’s head was nestled under Moira’s jaw, lips resting against her throat. One arm was pinned beneath Moira’s waist, the other reaching away across the mattress.

Clothes and covers were thrown across the room haphazardly, as were the contents of Angela’s own supply of playthings. Plastic phalluses and massagers and other more exotic toys scattered over the bed and over the floor, all used in the furious, desperate throws of passion that had thoroughly knocked out both doctors. 

The soft light played over their bodies like an artist’s brush, the soft, subtle curves of Moira’s body highlighted by dawn light. From the curl of her toes to the arch of her hip to the small, elegant mounds of her breasts. Angela’s hair shone like gold as the light moved over it, her own figure, smaller and fuller being illuminated as Moira’s had been.

The scent of their lovemaking hung in the air, clinging to their bodies and the sheets and the toys they had so eagerly used on one another late into the night. When they awoke, they would try and shower themselves clean of the stink of sex and fail miserably, hot water rekindling irresistible lust and leading to more of the moans and screams of desire that had filled the air of the house all through the night into the morning.

Moira awoke first, hand sleepily wandering to cup her sensitive twat, and waking her with lazy masturbation. She moaned delightedly and kissed Angela, spare hand caressing the blonde’s shoulder as her fingers filled her. “I love you.” she breathed as Angela’s eyes fluttered open.

Angela just smiled and wound an arm around her, holding her close. 

The End of The Tomb Raider. Chapter 3.

Part three of Lara's quest to recruit women to be mind-broken broodmares for her ebony futa mistresses! With her pilot/chauffeur Jay now a cocksleeve by her side, Lara helps Carabe find two new wives for the tribe.

-o-o-o-

Lara sobbed with joy as Labembe cupped her cheeks, wearing a proud smile on her lips. She could barely breathe she was shaking so hard, sucking in shallow breaths as she cried, grinning stupidly at her beloved mistress. 

“You’ve done so well, my sweet.” Labembe’s deep, rich voice rumbled, her thumbs gently wiping Lara’s tears away. “I am so proud of you.”

Lara laughed. Shrill and manic, her voice twisted by relief and ecstasy and maddening need. Labembe smiled and tipped her head up, her lips pressing against her throat, kissing and sucking at her. Lara went silent, mouth open in a noiseless pant as she trembled in her goddess’ grasp.

“Such a good girl.” Labembe continued softly. “Such a good wife. I chose well.”

“Yes.” Lara croaked.

“My bride. My precious girl. Such a good, obedient wife.”

“I’m good.” Lara panted in agreement. “I’m a good girl!”

Labembe pulled away and ran her fingers through her hair before standing and towering over her. she was magnificent, almost glowing as the sunset’s light splashed against her, dark ebony muscles like carved mahogany, tawny eyes like golden pools, hair as black as night. Lara whimpered, eyes drinking every inch of chiselled brown flesh, from the top of the chief’s head to the tips of her toes.

She was hopeless, helplessly, gushingly aroused.

“Lie back, sweet thing.” Her chief asked, voice low and gentle.

Lara obeyed, soft fur tickling against her back as she lay on their bed, their breeding ground, and spread her thighs wide. Labembe laughed, seeing how utterly soaked Lara had become and reached down, brushing a thumb against her folds. “Excited, are we?”

“I’m good.” Lara moaned, body twitching as the chief’s thumb flicked her pearl. “I’m good! I’ll… I’ll give you so many babies! I promise!”

“That was never in doubt, sweet.” Labembe purred, moving forwards and kneeling on the bed, her throbbing manhood draped over Lara’s belly. Lara almost came on the spot, staring at the chief’s pulsing head resting just beneath her chest. “You’re such a good girl.”

“W… will you kill me?” Lara groaned as Labembe’s hand gripped her hips and yanked her tight against her. “Will you k… kill my mind like all the others?”

“No, sweet.” The chief sighed, leaning down and pressing their foreheads together. “You’re such a good girl, I don’t have to worry about you betraying me. You belong here, it’s your home. You’re not like the cows; you won’t run away if I let you go. Will you?”

“No!” Lara agreed, shaking her head and sending her hair whipping about her face, Labembe sighed fondly and brushed a few stray strands out of her eyes. “I love you.” Lara whispered as she leant close. “I love you more than anything! I’ll do anything you ask, anything at all. It’s all I’m good for. I’ll be your pet until I die!”

“Hush, sweet.” Labembe said, pushing a finger to Lara’s lips. “I know.”

She pushed inside with one firm thrust. Lara howled, tongue lolling and eyes rolling with delight. She was silenced as the chief’s lips sealed over hers, shaking with ecstasy as Labembe’s tongue slipped into her, her cock driving itself deeper and deeper with every thrust.

Labembe’s hands squeezed her tightly, enough to keep Lara in her place but not so tight as to hurt her. She tasted just as Lara remembered, a fragrant, savoury flavour like some kind of spice she couldn’t place. All Lara knew was that she needed more. Her legs locked behind Labembe’s hips, desperately trying to push her deeper inside her cunt, but the chief effortlessly resisted her.

“M…more!” Lara sobbed, tears of joy turned into tears of frustration as Labembe patiently took her, slipping every inch of her glorious cock inside tortuously slowly, driving Lara insane as each bump and ridge and vein rubbed against her insides. “Please… Please mama… gimme more… give… Lara… more.”

She gurgled and went silent as Labembe’s hands closed around her throat, squeezing gently at first, but tightening her grip more and more as her thrusts grew all the more vicious. Lara choked, face red as she was strangled, eyes almost rattling in her skull as Labembe slammed into her. Her belly bulged as she was filled, the outline of the chief’s cock ramming its way further and further through her body until it pummelled against her ribcage with each violent slap of ebony hips and pale white cunt.

“Ghhhh.” Lara managed to spit out, hands tugging uselessly at Labembe’s hands as hey crushed her windpipe bit by bit. Pleasure turned into pain as the chief’s meat forced itself through her flesh, brutalising her ruined pussy. She was helpless, completely at the immense black woman’s mercy, and there was nothing by hate and fury in the chief’s shining eyes. Her beloved’s lips parted in a cruel grin and she snarled. “You are a bad girl. I should have done this instead of sending you away.”

Lara jerked one last time as Labembe came, her seed power-washing the poor woman’s guts and cascading out of her. Lara’s body swelled under the pressure, jets of spunk spattering out of her mouth, her nose, even her eyes. Her vision went white entirely, her brain drowning in cum. hands fell away from Labembe’s, fat tits stopped quivering from Lara’s breaths. Her thighs fell limply away from the chief’s hips and Labembe sniffed with satisfaction, finally releasing the girl’s throat.

-o-o-o-

A foot jabbed Carabe sharply in her sack, waking her in an instant with a dull grunt of pain. Surprise gave way to rage and she snarled, throwing away the covers and rounding on the two white women sharing her bed.

She paused.

Lara was sobbing in her sleep, thrashing and crying out. Carabe moved closer, reaching out to comfort her, but Lara let out a shrill squeak and opened her eyes. She saw Carabe and shrieked, folding in on herself, cradling her head as she shivered.

“Lara?”

“Croft?” Jay murmured, rubbing her eyes and nuzzling closer, long paper-white fingers stroking over Lara’s side. “What’s wrong?”

“Lara.” Carabe said, taking Lara’s wrists and pulling them away from her face. “What is it?”

Lara looked at her and whimpered, before pulling close and hugging her around her waist. “I… I had such an awful dream.” She croaked; her tears wet against Carabe’s breast.

Carabe swallowed and gently cradled Lara to her chest, petting her hair with on hand as she looked to Jay for help. She’d never had anyone wake her with a nightmare before, never been the one with any power to relieve someone of their terror. In the back of her mind there was a picture of her mother, smiling down at her when she had been a child, comforting her… but that was all.

“Hey.” Jay breathed, sitting up and hugging Lara’s back, lips pressing against her shoulder. “It’s ok. Mistress is here. Mistress will take care of both of us forever. She’ll keep us safe and happy all our lives, so long as we’re good girls.”

Lara whimpered and pushed herself tighter against Carabe, face disappearing between her dark breasts. “I’m good.” Her voice said, muffled by ebony flesh. “I’m a good girl… I’ll always be a good girl for m… my mistresses.”

“Yes.” Carabe nodded, forcing a smile. “You’re… er, very obedient. Chief Labembe is very lucky to own you. if… if you were mine, I would be… um… proud, and I’m sure she is too.”

Lara pulled away and looked up at her shyly, face red and wet from tears. “Y… You really think that?”

“I know it.” Carabe said a little more confidently. “I’ve never seen her look at a wife like she looks at you.”

Lara smiled weakly and hugged herself, shivering despite the heat of the manor.

“I bet the chief can’t wait for you to come back.” Jay purred, kissing Lara deeply, their tongues mashing together even as Jay recoiled, the two fleshy muscles twirling in the open between them. “You’re so fucking sexy.”

“Jay.” Lara smiled, pushing her away half-heartedly. “Don’t tease.”

“I’m not, I always thought you were so fucking fine.” Jay moaned, pushing close again and rubbing her small chest against Lara’s plump udders. “Now I can taste you and fuck you, I’m so fucking happy! And we can be stupid breeders for fat black girlcock together.” Her hands clapped down on Lara’s rump, coaxing a pleased giggle from the former adventurer.

Carabe smiled approvingly and allowed them a few moments to playfully tease each other’s body before taking hold of them both and pushing them down onto the bed. “Sleep.” She growled. “You can play in the morning.”

“You promise?” Jay cooed, wiggling her butt in the air as Carabe kept her head down against the covers.

“I do.” Carabe sighed, giving her a gentle pat before sinking down and sighing. The light went out and she smiled, rolling onto her back so her pale slaves could nuzzle against her bosom, using her as a pillow as they drifted off to sleep.

-o-o-o-

Lara mewed delightedly as she woke, taking in a deep breath of Carabe’s musk, feeling herself grow wet immediately.

Carabe had more than made herself at home since she had been brought to Lara’s old house. The heat was permanently set as high as it would go, the kitchens were bursting with fresh fruit, and almost every surface was smeared with the leftovers of both Lara and Jay’s use. The whole place stank of spunk, which only drove the two white sluts into a constant heat, making sure the mess would get worse and worse.

The bed was the worst offender, and so it was Lara and Jay’s favourite place. It had been thoroughly soaked with sperm after whole days dedicated to nothing but scratching the broken women’s insatiable craving for futa cum. There were times both Lara and Jay would just rub themselves against the bed when Carabe lost patience with them, rubbing the stink into their skin before turning their lust on each other. 

Lara had never known a woman’s body as well as she now knew Jay’s and, from the screams drifting through the manor, Carabe was just the same.

Lara stood and yawned, admiring the carnage that was their bedroom, things torn and broken, strewn across the floor. Almost every surface sticky with sperm. And the smell. God. Lara quivered delightedly and took a deep breath before making her way towards the shower.

It didn’t take long for company to arrive, Jay’s pale hands winding around her waist as she pushed close. Lara hummed and took position against the shower wall, smiling up at the water splashing against her body. Jay giggled and started kissing her way down Lara’s back, starting at her shoulders and peppering tiny pecks down Lara’s spine before sinking her fingers into Lara’s ass and practically making out with one of the fat fleshy pads.

“So fuckin’ sexy.” Jay mumbled, rolling her palm against Lara’s rump, toying and kneading her slippery flesh. “Always wanted to get in your pants.”

“Is it everything you hoped?” Lara cooed, pushing herself back against her pilot-turned- lover.

“That and more.” Jay winked before burying herself between Lara’s cheeks and setting to work on her slit.

Lara groaned; eyes squeezed shut as she pressed herself against the tile wall. “You could’ve asked.” She breathed, nibbling her lip. “Might’ve even said yes.”

“Oh yeah?”

“If you played your c… cards right.”

“Hmm?” Jay purred, landing a sharp smack on her before standing up and turning Lara around to face her. She planted an arm to the side of Lara’s head and stroked the other slowly down her hip, flashing a cocky smile. “Wouldn’t be the first time I turned a girl.”

“Is that right?” Lara replied softly, cupping jay’s cheeks and pulling her down until their lips almost touched. Her eyes darted up to the little mark on Jay’s forehead and she smiled. “To bad I turned you first. Made you a slave to their cocks just like me.”

Jay moaned as Lara’s slid her thumb over the mark, her eyes glimmering golden for an instant and making her legs go weak. Lara giggled and spun her around, pushing her back to the wall and taking her turn at suckling her way over her flesh. “T… tell me about it again.” Jay rasped.

“It’s the most beautiful place in the world.” Lara sighed dreamily, fingers pushing up and curling inside Jay, drawing another hoarse groan from her lips. “Trees and lakes and waterfalls. A whole village hidden away with everything it could ever need, such delicious food and gorgeous song and magnificent women.”

“Tell… me about them.”

“They’re tall and strong and powerful. So, so beautiful, like they were carved out of mahogany rather than born. So dark… and so delicious. Especially my chief… she was so gentle, and so harsh. Sometimes she would caress me, other times she would beat me, always how I craved, how I needed it. She looked into what’s left of my brain and knew exactly what I needed.” Lara whispered, voice low and melancholy. “At nights if I was still awake after being used I… I would just watch her, stroke her. Muscles all like stone, but skin so very soft. Her breasts were… and her hips and… I used to play with her hair sometimes. Rough and coarse like her palms as they rolled over my ass. She used to scold me when I misbehaved, and her voice would go all low and rumbly. It was always so deep and rich but then… then it became so much more wonderful.”

“Fuck!” Jay squeaked, voice raising an octave or two as Lara’s fingers explored her insides.

“She… filled me, Jay.” Lara continued, barely paying attention anymore. “So completely that whenever she isn’t… whenever she wasn’t inside me, I felt empty. She would push herself so deep my entire body felt like one enormous nerve being struck, like my climax hit every single cell of me. And then if she used her magic to make herself bigger… gods, tasting her tip as it pushed up out of my gullet was incredible. It broke me, every time, the pain and the ecstasy of being so thoroughly twisted by her set my mind on fire. I’d wake up the next day aching and feeling like a little piece of me had left when her cock did.”

Jay’s hands were squeezing her like a vice as she stared off into space, so lost in longing memory she didn’t even feel the pain in her arms, or the gentle stroking of Carabe’s hands down her chest. She didn’t even realise her mistress had joined them she was so distracted. “I don’t just want her babies, Jay. I need them. I can’t live with myself without her daughters in my belly. It’ll be the same for you… as soon as you meet them you’ll just know. You’ll see them, feel their bodies against you, taste them, smell them… and you’ll know what heaven is. You’ll know what God looks like. You won’t be you anymore, you’ll be something new, something beautiful. And you’ll spend the rest of your life in ecstasy, being bred, birthing daughters, eating and sleeping and fucking and breathing for them.”

Jay slumped down, legs turned to jelly, and Lara snapped out of her trance. She blushed darkly and hugged herself in the heat of the water, finally noticing Carabe’s breath against her scalp and the soft pressure of her palms against her belly. “I’ve never heard a wife speak like that before.” She breathed. “I knew they must adore us but… we’re truly gods to them, aren’t we?”

“Yes.”

Carabe’s hands moved up to Lara’s breasts, gently pinching her nipples before lining herself up with her sopping cunt and pushing inside. “We’ll be home soon.” She said. Lara moaned in agreement and pushed back against her, reaching down to help Jay back to her feet. The pale, skinny woman looked amazed, eyes wide with wonder, even as Lara grunted and bounced herself back against Carabe’s thrusts. She reached up to slick her hair back, and moved close, kissing Lara in a way so much softer and more loving than she ever had before.

“You really think that… they’ll like me?” Jay asked breathlessly. “I’m about as opposite them as you can get.”

“They’ll think you’re delightful.” Lara smiled, panting as Carabe picked up the pace. “Like I do.”

“C’mere you.” Jay blushed, shutting her up with another tender kiss.

-o-o-o-

“So mistress, see anyone you like?” Jay cooed, draping herself over Carabe’s arm and batting her lashes up at her.

“Several, I suppose.” Carabe sighed, wincing and trying to adjust her pants. “I do not care for these clothes; they are far too restrictive.”

“If you walk about with your cock visible it could expose you!” Lara whispered.

“I know, I’m not a fool.” Carabe growled, scowling down at her before sighing. “Let us move quickly and find your new sisters, I’m suffocating in these damned things.”

Lara smiled as the girl strode into the club like she owned it, pushing her way through the crowd which practically parted before her all on its own. Jay grinned and scampered after her, eyes scanning the room hungrily, searching for potential ‘recruits.’

After only a few minutes of sitting by the bar it became clear the problem wasn’t going to be finding women Carabe liked. Her tawny eyes lingered hungrily over almost everyone she saw, pants bulging dangerously. Lara smiled, pleased Carabe was at least enjoying herself for once, but made a point of keeping herself between her mistress and the rest of the bar, just in case anyone saw the throbbing package straining against her pants.

“They’re quite nice.” Jay purred, pressing her lips close to Carabe’s ear, hands exploring her hips. She pointed with a finger to a group of three women in a booth close to the floor. Lara pursed her lips and inspected them with interest. They were all older women, in their mid-forties. All three were east Asian, were well dressed and well made up, and all three were watching the younger women in the club with lecherous eyes.

“What do you think mistress? They’re a little old for breeders.”

“They’re still good.” Carabe murmured, “And Kolma’s potions can make healthy breeders out of women far older… besides, they are certainly easy on the eye.”

“So, all three?” Jay asked excitedly. “We could have all your wives by the end of the night!”

Carabe sighed and looked down at Lara, who hung her head reluctantly, knowing what her mistress was about to say. 

“No.” She said quietly. “I won’t rush this. We’ll take one and find another, one different. The more exotic our prizes the more likely we are to please the tribe.”

“So, who else?”

Carabe pointed across the room.

A young ginger woman was sitting alone by the wall, sipping at her drink and watching the club with quick grey eyes. Lara raised a brow, the girl was pretty, but seemed remarkably out of place in the club. She wasn’t dressed up, wasn’t with anyone, she was just sitting and watching. “Mistress?” Lara asked, “Are you sure?”

“I want her.” Carabe smiled, taking Lara by the cheek and pulling her into a kiss. “Fetch her for me.”

“Won’t you need me for the other one?”

“Nah. I’ll slut it up and have one of them eating out of the palm of my hand in no time.” Jay grinned, pulling up her skirt even higher and kissing her as well. “See you back at the limo?”

“If I don’t see you first.”

-o-o-o-

“Where are you taking me?” June giggled as Jay lead her out of the club and into the cool night air. The pink-haired girl flashed a dazzling grin over her shoulder and laughed. 

“Somewhere fun, love.”

“Well in that case lead the way.” June purred. Her brow raised, impressed, as Jay stepped up to a limo and opened the door. “This is for you?”

“Technically I’m it’s chauffer, love.” Jay smirked, “But my mistress won’t mind.”

“Mistress?” June laughed.

“That would be me.”

June spun to see an excellent pair of tits trapped behind a shirt that was very much too tight for them. She swallowed and directed her attention up to the woman who owned them, or rather the girl. She couldn’t have been more than nineteen but towered over her like a real-life amazon. She was beautiful and dark and impeccably muscled, yet somehow instead of feeling intimidated she found herself leaning towards the newcomer. “H… hi.”

“Hello.” The girl smiled, eyes inspecting her with interest. “I am Carabe, who are you?”

“June.” June swallowed. “June Lee.”

“It’s a pleasure.” Carabe purred, she took Jay and pulled her close, forcing a kiss onto her. “I take it my Jay has tried to seduce you?”

“Something like that.” June mumbled, confused both by her situation and the longing she felt to be held like Carabe held Jay.

“Would you like to join us?”

“For… sex.” June frowned cautiously.

“Of course.”

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“I… guess so.” June smiled slowly, pushing her chest forward a little, liking how Carabe’s dazzling eyes drank in her curves. “My place or yours?”

“Here.” Carabe smirked, reaching out and pushing June back against the limo. June let out a quiet squeak, only for Jay to silence her with a deep and feral kiss. She whined helplessly, eyes wide as Jay pressed their lips together, watching as Carabe plucked a bead from her necklace and toyed with it between her fingers.

“W… what’s that?” June asked breathlessly as the kiss ended.

“A present.” Carabe smiled, moving so close June could almost taste her perfume. She brought up the little bead for June to admire, before slapping it onto her forehead.

June came to what felt like an eternity later, blinking up in awe at Carabe’s throbbing cockmeat. Her vision tunnelled, everything seemed to be bathed in golden light. It didn’t matter, all that mattered was sliding that cock as deep inside her body as she possibly could.

“Ah ah.” Jay grinned, grabbing her as she dove for the cock. “Beg for it.”

“What are you doing?” Carabe frowned, before June’s hands grabbed her thighs.

“Please!” the older woman panted, “Please I’m begging you! fuck me! fuck me until I can’t walk anymore! Fuck me and fuck me and fuck me for the rest of my stupid whore life!” She kept begging, pleading, sobbing and screaming for Carabe to shove herself deep inside her. She only realised that she’d slipped back into Cantonese when Carabe asked Jay what she was saying. She let out a soft groan and choked out one last “Please?”

Jay’s hands moved away and June let out a gleeful moan, darting forwards and pressing herself tight to the glorious ebony pole. Her tongue snaked out and tasted cock. She giggled with broken delight and moved upwards, lips locking over Carabe’s head and suckling. Jay and Carabe kissed above her, between her legs was a veritable waterfall, but in her mouth was the most wonderful thing she’d ever seen.

She sank herself down as far as she could, coughed and gagged and spluttered trying to go further. Jay’s hands took her by the cheeks and helped her make the final move. Her gullet forced open, her throat sunk down and her neck bulged full of thick, brown cockmeat.

All the spluttering and spit and guttural moans faded out of her consciousness as she came, her whole body quaking as her arousal spattered the pavement between her legs. Jay helped her slam her head up and down the incredible length, spit and slime oozing from her lips as she moaned and gagged.

“Fuck… I’ve only seen Lara take a cock like that.” Jay rasped in her ear. “And she was throat fucked for months by our chief. You’re a special kind of cocksleeve.”

June burbled a gleeful agreement and continued to force herself up and down until Carabe swelled inside her. The first jet of spunk rushed straight into her belly, knocking what little strength she had out of her. she slumped to the floor, staring blankly up at her new mistress’ face as rope after rope of cum pumped into her stomach. The heat was unimaginable, filling her up as she sat and brainlessly guzzled. If just raw sperm could make her belly glow so heavenly, how mind-shatteringly perfect would carrying her mistress’ babies be?

-o-o-o-

“Come on.” Lara purred, draping herself around Charlie’s neck and batting her lashes. “Come meet them.”

“What if they don’t like me, Lara? I’m awful at meeting new people.” Charlie winced, cheeks burning as she tried to ignore Lara’s hands against her. “Let’s just… get another round, or something.”

“Come on.”

Charlie groaned anxiously as she was led around the bar to the carpark, where a pair of women were standing, partly obscured by the open door of a limo. “Carabe, Jay!” Lara called, scampering up to the door and peeking over. For a moment Charlie thought the gorgeous woman who had dropped into her lap looked disappointed, but then Lara smiled up at the black girl. “This is Charlie.”

“H… hi.” Charlie said quietly, staring at the dark girl in mixed terror and awe. She was gorgeous, a total knockout, and she was smiling at her! she noticed her! knew she existed like all the girls Charlie had ever wanted hadn’t. she swallowed, hard, and offered an awkward wave. “Nice to… m… meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine.” Carabe replied, voice sweet and soft and seductive. Charlie’s knees trembled as she walked to Lara’s side. “You have good timing; I’ve just finished initiating June.”

Charlie looked down as Carabe did and let out a sharp shriek. A buxom Asian woman was thoroughly embedded on an inhumanly gorgeous cock, protruding from Carabe’s already inhumanly gorgeous body. As she watched in trembling horror, the girl took the milf by her hair and pulled her off her length with a disgustingly wet squelching sound. Her cock throbbed and released a thick rope of cum, marking the woman from her hair down her forehead to her lolling tongue.

“More.” the older woman pleaded, mouth gaping, spilling semen like a fountain. She’d been stripped naked, her mature bronzed body glistening with sweat and spunk. Her face was a picture of broken bliss, the mark on her forehead glowing beneath a rope of cum. her eyes wide and glassy with singular need. Her mouth hung open in a bestial pant, tongue lolling and letting her spit and Carabe’s seed dribble down onto her heaving udders.

“M… more.” She croaked again, hands clutching at a neatly trimmed cunt, “Inside… cum inside… my pussy.”

“Later.” Carabe smiled, casually wiping her rod off in the pleading woman’s hair. The pink-hared girl winked up at Charlie before helping the woman into the limo and lying her down.

“Thank… you.” the woman had time to mumble before Jay was smothering her, lapping the cum from her flesh inch by inch before straddling her chest.

“Mistress’ gotta teach our new sister, so why don’t you get to work on my backdoor whilst we wait. Need it all slippery for mistress’ bitchbreaker.”

“Muh.” The woman managed, blinking stupidly before bringing her face up between Jay’s cheeks and beginning to obediently tongue her pucker. Jay moaned and reached back, fingers raking through inky black hair and then clenching tight, yanking the woman tight against her ass.

“H… Hey… Croft.” Jay grinned, panting with glee as she was serviced by their new recruit. “Guess I win, huh. First dibs on being mistress’ cocksleeve tonight!”

“I never agreed to that.” Carabe said sternly, before gently guiding the starry-eyed Charlie into the Limo and sitting her down in her lap. “And who are you, sweet?”

“Ch… Charlie.” Charlie whispered, staring entranced at the Asian woman as she slurped at Jay’s ass, the mark on her forehead throbbing with golden light. “Charlotte… Carter.”

“Do you want me to fuck you, Charlotte Carter?” Carabe cooed, running her hand along the curve of Charlie’s hip. “That’s why Lara brought you here. Are you ready to be my slave?”

“Slave… Yours.” Charlie croaked. “I… I don’t… I just… my head…”

“I want you to be my slave.” Carabe smiled, lifting her effortlessly and resting her on the floor. “I want to own you.” she plucked a bead from her necklace and crushed it between her fingers, pressing the powder against Charlie’s forehead and leaving a glowing golden mark behind.

“I want… I don’t know what I want.” Charlie whined, “My head feels… I want something, I need something, I just don’t know what. I need it so bad. Th… there’s a place… somewhere I have to go to… can you take me there?”

“I can, sweet.” Carabe smiled, freeing her rod and smacking Charlie sharply in the cheek with it. the ginger let out a strangled sob of awe and immediately clutched it in her hands, stroking over it and pressing her face against its dark flesh with reverence.

“Oh god… yes… yes this… this is it.”

“Suck my cock, Charlotte Carter. Be my plaything, milk my cock and obey my word and one day, you’ll be a fat, mindless babymaker. Just like June, just like Jay, Just like Lara.”

Charlie let out a quiet cry and turned her head, still smearing herself against Carabe’s rob. “L… Lara! Come… come worship with me? Please?”

Lara smiled and took position beside her, kissing her cheek before guiding her attention back to Carabe’s pulsing member. Charlie swallowed and shyly began to kiss Carabe’s dark brown tip, suckling her head with blushing cheeks and squirming as Lara ran her hands over her hips.

“Drink in the taste… the smell.” She cooed into Charlie’s ear. “She’s so much better than us. So much stronger and so much more beautiful and so much more potent.”

“It’s… like destiny.” Charlie breathed, going cross eyes as she dragged her tongue down to Carabe’s sack, locking her lips against quivering brown flesh and sucking. She recoiled with a gentle pop and licked her lips. “This is where I’m meant to be, what I’m meant to be doing.”

“When you come to the village, you’ll know how wrong you are about that.” Lara purred. “A hundred women as magnificent as her. A lifetime spent in paradise with more fat black girlcocks than you can fit into your whore body… that is our destiny. We’re going to be their cows, their breeders. We’ll give them so many daughters.”

“Oh god.” Charlie croaked, “Oh… Fuck YES!” She lunged forwards and sank the first two inches of Carabe’s meat down her gullet, cheeks puffing up and eyes rolling back as she tried to force herself deeper, gagging and spluttering until her chin was a wet, stick mess of spit.

Lara grinned and grabbed her head, pushing her down to a low guttural moan from the ginger. Carabe smiled to herself, and leant back, watching with barely contained lust as Charlie’s throat was slowly ruined by her cockmeat. By the time she was about half-way down Carabe’s shaft her face was a bright-red mess of spit and running mascara, her gullet bulging as it was stuffed full. Even Lara’s encouragement couldn’t force Charlie down any further, so reluctantly, Carabe grabbed her by the scalp and pulled her off with a wet slurping sound.

“N… o.” Charlie whined. “Want… it all… inside.”

“Not without practice.” Lara tutted. “Now lie back so Mistress can fuck you.”

“She’s… so big.” Charlie breathed, hands clutching at Lara as she laid her down on her back. “She’ll never fit!”

“She will, I promise.” Lara grinned, “I take her every day, and she’s not even half the size of our chief.”

“It will hurt.” Carabe warned softly, pushing herself between Charlie’s legs and tearing away her underwear, and petting her sopping slit with a thumb. “But you will cum too hard to notice. You will ache afterwards though.”

“I… I… I’m r… ready.” Charlie squeaked, grabbing Lara’s hand and squeezing. She howled as Carabe pushed herself inside, mixed pain and pleasure crashing through her, making her whole body quake. Lara smiled as Charlie trembled, holding her hand until her eyes drifted back down from the back of her head and she regained enough control to swallow her tongue back into her mouth.

“Lara.”

“Hey.” Lara grinned, “Good?”

“So fucking good.”

“I haven’t started yet.” Carabe laughed, placing her hand over Charlie’s belly before giving one sharp thrust. Charlie let out a yip and melted all over again, Lara purred with arousal and leant down to kiss Charlie, who eagerly responded. She wasn’t half bad, surprising Lara, clearly her shyness didn’t equate to a lack of skill with a tongue.

She was slapped sharply on the rear and laughed, turning around to see Jay grinning, rolling her hips down into June’s face. The Asian milf was red-faced and lathered with quim, but in her eyes was nothing but delight. Lara smiled and reached out to her, sharing a long kiss before turning her attention back to Charlie.

Carabe’s thrusts were growing in speed and ferocity by the second, sending Charlie’s body bouncing and her mouth squealing with ecstasy. Lara smiled proudly and took position behind Charlie, toying with her cute freckled tits as Carabe pounded into her.

“You’re… so big!” Charlie whined, drawing a low hiss of pain from Lara as she squeezed her wrist, Carabe’s thrusts becoming deep enough that the flesh of her belly began to bulge with each motion.

“Carabe is magnificent.” Lara cooed in agreement, “But the women of our tribe are even bigger. Our chief’s cock can fit all the way through my body.”

“That’s… impossible.”

“Not for our mistresses.” Lara smiled, “Now hush, and cum. then we can go home and do it all over again!”

“Uhhhh.” Charlie moaned as Carabe’s sack swatted her, her entire length nestled inside her cunt. She was immense, a dozen times the size of Charlie’s old boyfriend, how it fit inside she had no idea, but she prayed to god Lara hadn’t lied about them fucking again later.

“Such a pretty pale thing.” Carabe said, petting Charlie’s cheek. “With your hair like fire. I knew I had to have you when I first laid eyes on you.”

“Please… fuck meee.” Charlie whimpered.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“D… don’t hold back, please?”

Carabe smiled, impressed, and nodded. She shifted her weight, planting her arms either side of Charlie’s head, and began to thrust in earnest.

Charlie shrieked with orgasmic bliss as she was brutalised, her entire body lurching as Carabe smashed into her cunt, her head punching into her very womb. She flopped helplessly onto the floor and fell into a trance of moaning and squealing and fucking. Lara and Carabe kissed above her, tongues duelling and lips locking. She cried out for attention, and was given it by Jay, who set herself the task of slipping her tongue far enough down her throat to lick Carabe’s cockhead. Even the Asian woman appeared as she was used, smiling stupidly down and smearing cum over her face with fat silicon lips.

At a certain point her mind faded, and she couldn’t tell who was who. Tongues and lips and hands played with one another all around her, kissing and stroking and tugging at her flesh. It was all a blur. Her screams turned to moans, turned to mews, turned to breathless rasping breaths, and at last Carabe pulsed, and shot her load deep into Charlie’s babymaker.

Even after she passed out she could feel the heat, feel the virility of her new mistress’ seed as it churned inside her. she prayed she would get pregnant, that the billions of wriggling black futa sperm in her womb would knock her up. It was the last thought to pass through her head, and in her dreams she sat, fat and stupid and docile, suckling from her mistress’ cock as her little brown daughters suckled from her.

-o-o-o-

“We have four.” Carabe said quietly.

Charlie moaned sleepily and shifted against her muscular stomach.

“Yes, Carabe.” Lara’s voice replied.

“You have already chosen the last, haven’t you?”

“Yes.”

Charlie opened an eye, curious to see her newest sister. Carabe noticed she was awake and gave her cheek a fond pat. Lara reluctantly took her phone from beside the bed and showed it to Carabe. In the light, Charlie could see the five of them all tangled together, naked and sweaty and striped with spunk. All her sisters and her mistress. Her new family.

“What is her name?” Carabe asked as Charlie settled herself down again.

“Sam.”

From the Journals of Avery Locke...

Excerpts from the journal of the pirate captain Avery Locke, chronicling the final days of her career from her heist of the HMS Empress to her seduction and eventual fall into sexual slavery to a Mermaid. 

-o-o-o-

From the private journals of Avery Locke, Captain of the Princess. Born Maribeth Lewis in 1675 and adopting a male persona, Locke operated in the years of 1696 to 1721. Both Locke and the Princess disappeared in 1721, last seen attacking HMS Empress, taking the ship’s haul and defacing its hull with taunts to the local British governor.

These journals were found and restored by Dr April Stone. Whilst their veracity has been confirmed, their content suggests either a fraud of remarkable quality, or that Captain Locke was suffering from a series of delusions.

~ ~ ~

April 5th, 1721

The Princess is fat and slow with gold. Even as I admire our haul’s glory, I know we must quickly part with it. Repairs to the ship shall account for a meagre amount, the rest must be exchanged so as to better be transported, or hidden away where only I and those I trust may access it.

His Majesty’s governor will surely be vexed fiercely both by my theft, and by my taunts to both him and his ilk. Perhaps in future he will better secure his gold, The Empress was all too easy to conquer, I’ve had whores in Nassau put up more of a fight. In any case, it hardly matters. Our score shall have us in comfort all our lives, so long as we are prudent.

Of course, I have no intention of abandoning this life. I shall live free and without shackles until the day I die. I shall fight and steal from those who would seek to be my masters, and in doing so perhaps rally others to follow in my footsteps. The Princess is my home, and my saviour, long past when my crew and mates are gone below, she and I will remain.

Master Mehan calls. No doubt the Captain’s discipline in once again required.

I take my leave.

~ ~ ~

April 6th, 1721

We are being followed.

Our boy in the crow’s nest spotted the beast a little past noon, as the shores of Jamaica faded entirely from our sights. Master Mehan would have it dead, yet something stays my hand.

Mermaids.

I thought them a children’s tale, an old sailor’s lie like great sea dragons and harpies and sirens. Yet at our bough swims a maiden as alien to me as she is beautiful. I have not attempted to converse with it yet and have forbidden my crew from so much as looking at the thing. Perhaps if we are lucky it shall lose interest and return to whence it came.

Despite my trepidation… I must admit the beast is oddly captivating. When first I laid my eyes upon it, it responded immediately, coiling around our bough and staring up at me. Its eyes are more beautiful than all the jewels I could steal in a lifetime, and when it raised itself out of the water, I must admit its nudity sparked my interest.

Ha. Whatever the beast’s appeal, it is hardly the first pretty face I have had to resist. Though in this instance it be due to potential danger, and not my masculine façade. 

~ ~ ~

April 13th, 1721

A week has passed, the beast remains. I have had no choice but to converse with it. If it would do myself or my ship harm I had to know. Once a canon had been moved I took place in its stead, the ocean no more than a metre below me. Perhaps it was an undue risk, to move so close, but no harm befell me when at last the beast took notice.

She was slow, cautious for signs of danger, I believe she was as afraid of me as I was of her. At last she raised herself up and we spoke face to face. I had misjudged her size when first I lay eyes upon her, thinking her to be of a human height, no, she is perhaps nine feet long from head to tail, yet somehow no more threatening to me as a young girl.

She spoke eloquently, with an accent akin to the Spaniards, but when asked how she learned English refused to answer. She professed her only purpose to be curiosity, that she had seen our battle and my own part in it and become fascinated. She seemed to take particular interest in my beard, false though it may be, and attempted to play with it, which I quickly put a stop to. I demanded she leave, to which she replied with a reluctant refusal. As of now she remains with us, though she keeps her distance.

My initial fascination has developed into… something else. Speaking to her, watching her move… I have not seen such beauty on god’s earth before. Her hair is like the deepest greens I have seen sailing the coast of Cuba, her skin is soft and pale as milk, but it is her eyes that enchant me. Such deep blue pools, the like of which I know I will never see once she departs.

My fingers do their good work each night with her form in my mind. Never before have I found such delight with only my own digits in my twat. In the safety of my cabin, I may crave the touch of another woman without fear of discovery, but I fear this newest interest of mine coaxed an unduly loud cry from my lips. The crew has yet to inquire, in future I must exercise more caution when pleasuring myself, that, or adopt a more masculine moan.

~ ~ ~

April 23rd, 1721

She knows.

I was a fool to think I could fool her.

She had yet to leave us, so I spoke with her once again, she seemed in better spirits than before, more confident, she does not fear me anymore. She asked me where I came from, how I came to this life, I refused to answer, my infatuation with this beast is dangerous enough without her knowing enough about me to get closer.

She asked if many women wore beards, to fit in with the men.

I suppose it was only a matter of time before someone discovered me. My disguise has been enough to fool my crew, and those others who call themselves pirate, but that is more a testament to the intelligence of those parties than to my skill as an artificer.

I implored her to quiet herself and, to her credit, she obliged.

She… made certain comments about me when I asked how she had known. About my breasts and my hips and my lips. She asked if I would remove my beard so that she might see my face, she was certain I would be ‘pretty’. My flattery was overruled by fear of discovery at the time but now I admit it was pleasing to be admired.

She touched my hand, be it briefly. Her skin was cold and soft, her caress gentle. It makes me wonder if all of her is as lovely to hold.

Again I find myself drawing new pleasure from my holes, my fingers taking new life as my mind obsesses over her smile and her soft voice and what little I have seen of her body. She seems so gentle, there’s a kindness to her that penetrates the heart of me, I have no doubt if I took her into my bed she would adore me like no lover I have ever had. God in heaven, what delight I would feel to see those eyes staring at me from between my legs…

Forgive me, a journal is no place for such lewd thoughts. Suffice to say I have been well taken care of these past weeks, if only by my own two hands betwixt my legs.

~ ~ ~

April 25th, 1721

Her name is Laala.

It rolls of my tongue when I say it.

I do not wish her departure to come soon anymore. Her company is worth more than all the riches in our hold.

We kissed this evening.

She asked to see my face once more, and I obliged on a whim. Her voice grew low, seductive… intoxicating. She said she could smell my arousal, that she could almost taste it when I masturbated at night to her. I couldn’t speak, let alone deny this… and then her lips found mine.

She cares not for my façade, nor that I have so shamefully pleased myself to her body. She finds me fascinating; she wants to explore my body and mind. She was so soft as she pressed against me, hands over my cheeks, tongue resting over mine…

I refused her.

I cannot risk discovery, not even for her.

~ ~ ~

April 26th, 1721

I am a weak woman.

My resistance lasted until night, when I heard her sing. Such a sad song it was, with words beyond my comprehension. I could not resist. I climbed from the ship and made my way to the ram where she lay, quiet and content.

She was not surprised to see me.

Her size was never as apparent as it was as she coiled around me, hands stroking over my body until she found the buttons of my shirt. They vexed her for a moment, until I tore my shirt from my back and flung it to sea. My impatience was such that I could barely contain my lust. Our kiss was ravenous as she followed my lead, shredding my clothes and tossing them aside.

I wanted her then and there, but she stopped to admire me in the moonlight. I shivered both from cold and from trepidation as her eyes washed over me, as much as I craved to fuck her she was slow to oblige.

For a time, she marvelled at my body, toying and squeezing and weighing my breasts in her palm, giggling as I mewed at her touch. She is so much smaller than I, indeed I suspect her fellow merfolk are equally as small-chested, if only due to how entranced she was by my own bosom.

My breasts were not the only delight she desired that night. She lay me down as if I were a child, her arms strong and magnificent, and sampled every inch of me that took her interest. Fingers found my nipples, my ears, my hair. Her tongue explored every rise and fall of my chest and belly. She became intrigued by my navel for some time, kissing and sucking at it with curiosity before asking its purpose. She was hatched from an egg, of course, and had never seen such a thing before. I confess she was disappointed when she learned it’s mundanity, though less so when her attention wandered lower where more exciting treasures lay.

God in heaven her tongue… I have not felt anything like it in all my years. She was tentative at first, gentle and hesitant. Once she’d had a taste she latched onto my cunt like a limpet, if she had not come up for breath, I would have had to pry her off. It was incredible, if a tad painful as her hands squeezed my hips.

I drew blood in my attempts to remain undiscovered, I knew my screams of lust would be heard by the whole crew if they were allowed to ring out freely. A scrap of cloth from my breeches was still within reach, I gagged myself with it and clung to Laala as she delved into my sex.

She was insatiable, unyielding… I was shown no quarter as she took me as I myself had taken so many whores. I was her plaything, to be devoured and enjoyed in carnal lust. I am no young woman, but in all my years I have never experienced anything as potent as her desire.

I awoke before dawn, nestled in her embrace, pinned against the ram by her weight. For a while I was still and silent, watching the lazy movement of my Laala’s tail as she slept above me. Such a powerful thing, yet it moves with great elegance, cutting through water like a hot knife through butter. Each scale glittered in the low light as the sun began to peek through the clouds, shining like jewels as they shifted.

At last I roused her from her slumber, and was released from her embrace, albeit begrudgingly. She demands I return soon; I have no reason to resist. Walking to my cabin, naked and thoroughly spent was a touch humiliating, though the thrill of it has yet to leave me.

My Laala.

She is my true treasure.

~ ~ ~

May 3rd, 1721

My Dearest has quite the dirty tongue. Picked up from the sailors she’s watched over the years. I had not expected such a sweet thing to spout such vulgarities at me as we made love. Nor did I expect to adore the humiliation.

My naked walks to my cabin have become nightly, I fear I grow reckless. The thought of discovery sparks my arousal more than ever. It is only the danger that keeps me cautious.

Laala is a greedy lover, she demands more from me each time I climb to our safe little nook. It sometimes worries me how eager I am to oblige. At first, she expected only my submission, my body laid bare and made helpless for her enjoyment, now it is routine for me to be lashed to the ship like a figurehead and thoroughly fucked. She makes me call her ‘darling’, though she calls me things far filthier.

The names echo in my mind long after her tongue has left my flesh. Slut. Whore. Bitch. All names I have used; I have no right to complain at their use now I find myself in the role of submissive. There are others though… ones that eat away at my sense of self even now. Long after I leave her, I remain her fuckpet. Her cuntslave. Her rapetoy. How am I to command the princess whilst my mind reminds me how my true self is more concubine than captain?

I play with myself when I am apart from her. at my desk, as I plan to hide my great treasure. In my bed, as I take my leave from the crew. It happens more and more with each passing day. I cannot allow myself what I need in daylight, it is my only alternative.

Laala waits for me, even now. She swims round The Princess effortlessly, she watches the crew, she stares at me. Whenever I am on deck, I feel her eyes on me, drinking in my form, plotting new debauchery for our nights. It seems she is truly insatiable. The thought both thrills and scares me. What becomes of me when I cannot satisfy her? Will I be cast aside? Will she leave me? Will I get so much as a word or will I wake alone and nude one morning.

Pah.

Stupid thoughts, born of childish need and pathetic anxieties. I will not allow myself to be abandoned, if that ever comes to pass. I am still a pirate; I will not be cast aside.

Perhaps tonight I will not be so passive for her. Perhaps I will remind her of what I offer to fully expel any treacherous thoughts from her head, if indeed there are any.

~ ~ ~

May 18th, 1721

The bastard Mehan attempted to drive my love away this morn, it was only by chance I had departed early enough to avoid him. Laala suffered a mere scratch. Mehan will suffer more I swear!

The crew may be on his side, but I will remind them of their place!

If Laala was injured… if she were killed…

They are MY crew.

They will obey ME.

As I obey my love.

~ ~ ~

May 19th, 1721

My dearest Laala is unharmed, and in good spirits. Last night she had me in her lap, cradling me as she explored my insides with her fingers. I am as much hers as the crew is mine. She knows it all too well.

I was her plaything throughout the night, bound and toyed with for my love’s amusement. She’s taken to teasing my breasts, pulling and squeezing at them enough to hurt just right. I would complain, if it didn’t make me climax as nothing else on this earth does.

I am her property now, more than anything. More than I am a captain, or a pirate or even a woman. I am clay in her hands as she uses me. I dream of her when I sleep. I count the seconds until I am with her whenever I am not.

Last night, as I lay bare upon the bough of my ship, with my love coiled around me, I knew deep within me that I was hers. I have never felt love like this before. She fucks me, humiliates me, binds and ravenously devours my sex, and I adore it all. Every pinch of my nipples, every slap on my arse. Every cut of the rope tight against my bare, helpless flesh. Every taste of her tongue and every scrape of her nails.

Whore.

I’m her Whore.

I know what I must do.

~ ~ ~

May 30th, 1721

It is done.

My journey is at its end.

I am happy.

The Princess sank as I had intended, my crew along with her. My gold lies here in my new home, a great cavern, accessible only by water. We moved it slowly and piled it high upon the shore. Now this great treasure is my bed.

I sit as a queen as I write this, my last words to a world I care nothing for. A crown upon my head, gold coins scattered over my breasts, sipping wine from a goblet fit for a king. I chronicle the last night, the best night.

My Laala took me like the whore I am upon this pile of treasure in the light of day. It was the best sex I have had in my life, even with my beloved. If this is to be my life from now on, I welcome it with open arms and gushing cunt.

She takes me like I’m all that keeps her alive, drinking my arousal like wine. There’s nothing to hold back my screams of delight, in fact, the cave echoes me, makes my cries of lust louder by tenfold.

Laala enjoys my screams, delights in coaxing them from my throat at every opportunity. Her hands have barely left my body since I rid myself of my troublesome crew, she gropes and strokes and caresses me constantly. As it grew cold in the early morning, she coiled about me to keep me warm. Her tail could crush me if she wanted, I am helpless to stop her, but no, she is gentle and loving once her desire has passed. Her head rested against my bosom, her hands tickling my ribs. It was so peaceful I fell asleep in mere moments.

She is away as I write, hunting for fish so that we may feast before we fuck. I’m making myself ready for her as we speak. By week’s end this cavern will be filled with the scent of our love. This treasure will be marked as ours by our cum.

The water stirs. My love approaches.

To whomever finds my journal, know only this: My true name is Maribeth Lewis, and I am my darling Laala’s faithful bride. If you learn nothing else from my words, know that the lust of a mermaid is more precious than all the gold in the world. If you find yourself the object of one’s desire, I beg you, accept her with open heart. You will know the truest joy if you do.

~ ~ ~

The Journal of Captain Locke was discovered in a sea cave on the coast of South America. Locke’s remains were found atop a hoard of treasure, mostly gold, worth approximately $2.54 million. The historical community has unanimously dismissed Locke’s story of her mermaid lover, though Dr Stone noted the remains of a wreath of local flowers laid over Locke’s remains. Certain groups of individuals have taken this as proof that Locke’s mermaid is, in fact, real and continues to visit her grave to this day. However, there is no proof this wreath does or did ever exist. Indeed if it had, and in the condition described, it would have had to been lain at Locke’s grave a matter of days prior to Dr Stone’s discovery of the cave. Meaning that someone had access to the sea cave and visited her remains frequently to keep the flowers fresh.

But that would be impossible, wouldn’t it?

What Comes After. (Spoilers?)

Look it's been five years ok? If you were gonna play Dragon Age Inquisition by now you would've.

After Solas' betrayal, the Inquisition's remaining members make their way to Tevinter. Cassandra visits her lover, the inquisitor, and spends the night with him.

-o-o-o-

“Cassandra!”

Marrin’s voice was sharp and pained, his face pulled into an agonised expression as he fell to the ground, one arm consumed by green fire. Cassandra was at his side in an instant, armoured knees crashing to the ground as she knelt beside him.

“My love!?” she managed to say before the fire exploded outwards, arcs of emerald lightning licking over Marrin’s body. He let out a shriek of pain and fell, desperately fighting to stay upright with his one good arm. “The mark… the anchor… it’s killing him!”

“What do we do?” Josephine asked, covering her mouth and staring in horror at the trembling Inquisitor.

“Josie, fetch Dorian, Vivienne, any mage you can find!” Leliana barked, taking command immediately. “Now!”

“N… no.” Marrin croaked, shaking his head. “N… no time… can’t stop it anymore…” he looked up at Cassandra, tears sparkling in those kind, sad eyes. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“You won’t… I… I promise.” Cassandra choked, cradling him as the mark flared again, drawing another pained howl from her lover’s lips. “Marrin! Stay with me! Don’t give in!”

“There’s no time for mages to get here.” Cullen breathed, standing helplessly by their side.

“Cullen… Take my… hand.” Marrin managed to spit out, the very act of speaking causing him yet more agony. “Armour… protect you for a moment.”

“I don’t understand.” Cullen frowned, “I can only hold it for seconds at the most. There’s no time to…”

“Take… my hand… pull it away from my body.” Marrin croaked, “Arm… straight.”

“Inquisitor. Marrin, are you… we don’t know if it would work.” Leliana winced, swiping her headdress aside and kneeling beside Cassandra.

“Cass… your sword.” Marrin groaned, ignoring her and forcing his head up to look into Cassandra’s eyes. “Make it clean…”

“I… I can’t.” Cassandra whispered, voice hoarse.

“I trust… you.” Marrin smiled before the mark exploded. He shrieked, falling to the floor and convulsing as green light poured from his hand, the scent of seared skin and ozone filling the room. Cassandra swallowed and stood, drawing her sword and raising it, face set with determination. Cullen snatched Marin’s hand and pulled his arm straight, wincing as the green glow began to eat away at his gauntlets.

There was a flash as the light of the anchor reflected on the descending steel blade, and then the light went out.

-o-o-o-

“Seeker.”

Cassandra glanced up and scowled at Varric as he seated himself across the fire from her. He ignored the scowl, more than used to it by now, and dipped his spoon into the bowl in his hand. “Sparkler says you’ve been here all day.”

“Dorian should be focused on getting us to Tevinter.” Cassandra replied dully.

“He hasn’t had to worry about it. I’m the one who called in all my favours with Isabela to get us ships.” Varric laughed half-heartedly. He sighed after a few silent moments and set down the spoon. “You haven’t seen him?”

“He needs to rest.”

“Seems like he could use you too.”

“You know nothing, dwarf.” Cassandra hissed, “I don’t want or need your opinion on the matter!”

“Seeker…” Varric sighed, “Cassandra. You did good. He’s alive because of you.”

“I brought Solas into this. I trusted him.”

“So you should have seen who he was? What he planned?” Varric sighed, “So should every damn one of us. We didn’t. This isn’t on you.”

“Varric… don’t.” Cassandra sighed, rubbing her face. She was exhausted. From the way Varric looked at her she probably looked it too. “I won’t see him. I can’t… not after what I did to him.”

“I can’t make you, Seeker.” Varric sighed, “But if it were the other way round, I’d be telling him to leave you be and rest himself.”

Cassandra glowered down at her feet as Varric took his stew elsewhere, every time she closed her eyes, every time she blinked, her sword cut through him again. His shrieks echoed through her head. His soft grey eyes burning green from the inside out. That voice, quiet and gentle and shy, letting out such pained cries.

She should go. She should at least say… something. They’d talked for a fleeting moment in Orlais, as Marrin had declared the inquisition as a peacekeeping force under Leliana’s command. But since then he had been hidden away, staggering out of his carriage to desperately try and stay in the loop, each time growing greyer and weaker more quickly and having to retreat back to his bed, seething with frustration and resentment. Cassandra would watch him from a distance, so scared that all that frustration would find it’s mark on her chest, and Marrin would leave her for good.

What if he really did blame her? What if she said something wrong and made things worse?

She hissed through her teeth and kicked the fire, sending coals spinning out over the damp grass glade they had made camp in.

After stamping out the scattered embers she found herself standing at his carriage, hand resting against the polished Orlesian wood. Leliana had demanded he be given the finest carriage whilst he was recovering, it seemed the least the divine could offer beside her spy-mastering and skilful negotiations to keep both Orlais and Fereldan off the scent of what the Inquisitor’s new purpose was.

She breathed in quietly before pushing. The door slid open without a sound and she stepped into the dark.

“Inquisitor?” she called hoarsely, “Marrin?”

“Cass.” Marrin’s voice replied softly. “It’s good to hear your voice.”

“I… I am sorry.” Cassandra said, stepping closer to the bed as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. He was lying on his back, bare from the waist up. The bandaged stump of his arm drew her gaze no matter where else she tried to look. “I would have come sooner… I thought… I didn’t.”

“It’s alright.” He smiled tiredly, eyes shut. “I’ve only been awake a few minutes. Wouldn’t have been very interesting for you.” Cassandra smiled weakly and knelt at his bedside, gratefully accepting his hand. He squeezed her gently and sighed, sinking down into the pillows.

“Are you alright, does… it hurt?” Cassandra asked, voice low.

“Yes.”

“I… I am so sorry, if I had been more careful, if I had not trusted Solas so blindly. This would never have happened.”

“Cassandra.” Marrin breathed, “Please don’t.”

“But I…”

“Cass.”

She stopped and hung her head, swiping unwanted tears out of her eyes. What was it about this thin little man that made her so vulnerable? He smiled weakly and squeezed her hand again. “I love you. An arm is tiny price to pay to stay by your side.” He said, voice regaining a little authority as he sat up. “You saved my life, you may have saved all our lives… but we need to go… after him.” He coughed weakly and sank back onto his back. “Damn it.”

“I… I can fetch you something for the pain.” Cassandra said, standing and turning for the door, only for his hand to find hers.

“No, I don’t want…!” he growled before swearing under his breath. “I hate this.”

“You’ll be back on your feet in a matter of days.”

“I know.” Marrin growled. “I’m just so… useless here.”

Cassandra nodded and gently stroked his cheek. “If this was one of Varric’s stories… I could tell you how much you mean to everyone, how important and special you are… especially to me.” she said, voice low and gentle. “But this isn’t a story… and I’m afraid if I open my mouth all my words will do is make matters worse. So no more talking in circles. Tell me what you need. And I shall give it freely.”

“Peace in Thedas?” Marrin laughed weakly. “No templars hunting me? A nice, big house by the coast? A warm bed and a roaring fire and a fat ginger cat to curl up in front of it?”

“My love.” Cassandra said sternly. He winced and shifted uncomfortably on his back.

“I… I need you to stay with me… just for tonight.” He breathed reluctantly. “I need to be close to you.”

She smiled slightly and nodded, leaning down and kissing his hand. “Of course.” She shed her casual armour with her usual care, setting down the boiled leather and chain mail neatly by a chest, standing in her underthings by Marrin’s bedside. “You may have to shift over, love.” She said with a small smile, helping him move himself against the wall. She noted his eyes lingering on the opening of her undershirt, where the loose white fabric was unlaced, showing the valley of her cleavage. Apparently he was not so drained as to fail to appreciate her.

He smiled weakly as she slipped closer, her chin resting against his mop of black curls, her arms winding about his waist. If Sera had seen them, she might have made a joke about her masculinity and the inquisitor’s slightness. But she had parted with them at Halamshiral, and Cassandra was content in cuddling her lover close to her in the intimate dark, safe in the knowledge there would be no ridicule to meet her when she left her lover’s side.

His sad grey eyes closed peacefully as they lay there, she smiled and moved close, pressing her lips to his. He stirred back from the edge of sleep and flashed the crooked grin she had so missed. “Don’t go taking advantage, seeker Pentaghast.” He said quietly. “I’m not so helpless I can’t push you out onto the floor.”

“I am not taking advantage.” Cassandra sniffed. “and if It offends you, I shall stop.”

“I didn’t say that.” he mumbled, drawing a soft laugh from Cassandra and earning another tender kiss. “This… is not what imagined would happen when I woke up in that cell.”

“Nor what I expected.” Cassandra agreed, fingers playing gently over his hairless chest before dipping lower and stroking over his lean, muscular belly. “But I have no complaints. The maker works in strange ways sometimes… I am glad he gave me you.”

“Awfully decent of him.” Marrin agreed, breath hitching as Cassandra’s lips touched against his neck.

“What did you think when you woke?”

“Who is this dark-haired warrior-goddess yelling at me?”

Cassandra laughed and pushed her head against his. “I thought, who is this little man with such lovely eyes? Surely he cannot be responsible for all this.”

“You seemed pretty certain, as I recall.”

“You were my only suspect. However captivating you may have been.”

“Hmmmm, ‘Captivating’ am I?”

“On your good days.”

“infuriating on my worst?” he chuckled softly, hand resting over hers as she stroked his stomach. He let out a low sigh and sank against her, nestling himself against her chest. She smiled down at him, feeling his breath flow over her skin, raising her to goose bumps.

“perhaps… but I adore you nonetheless.”

“You ‘adore’ me now?” Marrin grinned, eyes still shut contentedly. “I should have lost an arm years ago.”

“Th… that’s not funny.” Cassandra frowned, recoiling for a moment. He sighed and nodded.

“You’re right… I’m sorry.”

“I know why it had to be me… Cullen was closer to your mark. He was wearing his gauntlets.” Cassandra breathed, “But I wish it hadn’t. I wish I could look at you without knowing that I am the one who wounded you, that my sword cut a part of you from your body.”

“Cassandra, look at me.”

She reluctantly obeyed, finding herself staring deep into the dark grey pools of his eyes. They were gorgeous eyes, soft and shy and sad. Like the sky at the storm coast tempered and calmed. He squeezed her hand, smiling. “I am alive and I am with you. Nothing else matters to me.” He paused, eyes darting away from her face. “Do you remember when we met at the exalted council?”

“And Varric had me believe you were going to propose?” Cassandra scowled. “I have not forgotten, nor forgiven him.”

“If I had… what would you have said?”

Cassandra blinked, surprised. “I… do not know.” She admitted. “It’s such a large step. At the time I was worried that you would, and that I would hurt you by saying no. But when Varric first put the notion into my mind… I cannot remember feeling such delight before. I want to be at your side, and… I think I would like to marry you, one day.”

“This wasn’t the proposal, just so you know.” Marrin smiled gently, pressing back against her. “I just wanted to know before I did anything. The real proposal is going to make our first night at Skyhold look like nothing.”

“I will be sure to act very surprised when the time comes.” Cassandra replied, humming as his hand slid over her own.

She wanted him inside her then and there, but restrained herself, instead sliding both hands over the cool soft skin of his chest and down to his belly. His breath hitched as her lips began to toy with his earlobe. “Cass…” he breathed.

“Should I stop?”

“Just be gentle.” He groaned as her hand slipped under the covers and through the short coarse hairs crowning his manhood. She smiled and nodded, kissing his cheek as her hand curled around him and began to stroke. His soft groans melted as her lips found his again, sealing him in a deep kiss, her free hand slipping beneath his back to hold him as he trembled.

He was warm beneath her fingers, pulsing against her palm as she teased him. Breaths growing lower and huskier as she began to toy with his nipple as well. “Cassandraaa…”

“My love?”

“You’re cruel.”

“Am I?” She asked innocently.

“Torturing a poor one-armed man. Shame on you.”

“I would never torture you.” She replied softly, tugging at his lip with her teeth. “I am simply savouring the moment, my love. You wouldn’t want the evening over so soon, would you?”

Marrin hissed as Cassandra squeezed him, before nodding.

“I saw you admiring me.” She breathed, “Subtlety is not one of your gifts.”

“Why be subtle? You’re a beautiful woman.” Marrin replied softly, biting his lip.

“So you’ve said.”

“You are… you’re magnificent.” He cooed, “I see it every time you smile, every time you laugh… every time you smack a venatori with your shield and send them flying.”

Cassandra laughed softly and kissed his cheek. He sighed. “That’s the smile, exactly.”

Marrin groaned and pushed Cassandra’s hand away from himself. He rolled onto his side, facing her and kissing her gently. “May I undress you?”

“Certainly.” Cassandra purred, lying on her back and smiling as Marrin awkwardly rose and pushed himself between her thighs, Cassandra’s hands supporting him as he winced, stump-arm knocking against her carelessly. His manhood rested over her as he knelt, hot and hard and aching to be inside her. She cooed with anticipation and brought her hands up to her head, so that Marrin could pull her undershirt off with ease, freeing the heavy globes of her tits.

His hand didn’t reach for them immediately, instead tracing the curve of her body from her arm down her ribs to her hip, and then caressing the muscular valleys of her abdomen. When at last his fingers found her breast, she let out a delighted groan, and rolled herself back against him. Her nethers pulsing with excitement as they felt his rod slide against them through the thin fabric of her underwear.

“Marrin my love… don’t make me wait.” She mewed. Feeling his lips and tongue begin to play over her collarbone, inching downwards at a snail’s pace as his hand clung to the side of her head, playing with her hair.

“I’m… simply savouring the moment.” He teased, voice low and possessive. She scowled, unimpressed, before letting out a sharp yip of surprise as his teeth tugged on a nipple. She didn’t complain further, partly because of Marrin’s excellent tongue work and partly because she knew her dear Inquisitor was not nearly patient enough to outlast her.

Sure enough after just minutes of playing with her bust he turned his attention to the puddle between her legs. After fumbling with her waistband for a frustrated moment he tossed the panties across the carriage and brought his thumb to her opening, pushing against her to a low groan of lust from the seeker.

“Take me, love.” She rasped, caressing his cheek as he petted her opening.

“S… so impatient.” He breathed, resting himself over her sopping sex and groaning as she rubbed her hips against him.

“Marrrrrin.” She growled, fist tightening around his hair and pulling him towards her. “I want you now.”

He smiled weakly and moaned, slipping his head between her petals to a delighted croon from Cassandra. His thrusts were gentle as always, measured and thorough, scratching the itch throbbing deep inside her. Her fingers raked down his back as he moved against her, clawing at his ribs for support as he ducked low and stole a kiss. Her thighs split wide, desperate for more of his length speared between them, and locked behind his waist.

She howled with arousal as he fell against her, hand pawing at her breast as he thrust deep, his bristles rubbing against the full, thick crown of hair that rested above Cassandra’s sex. “More my love!” She cried, mouth mashing against Marrin’s as they rutted. “Don’t stop!”

“N…not going to.” He replied breathlessly.

“I’m close!”

“I know!”

“Fill me!”

“Cassandra!”

His seed splashed against her belly, almost steaming with heat. Cassandra fell back, face awash with bliss, her hands holding Marrin’s rear as he pushed against her, panting for breath. She cooed and scooped his load from her skin, sucking it from her fingers with a seductive look in her eye. Marrin’s cheeks darkened further and he sat back, hand finding Cassandra’s ankle as she stretched out on the bed. “Please tell me that was enough.” He smiled weakly.

“You don’t want more?” Cassandra teased, sitting up herself and caressing his chest, pulling herself tight against him.

“I think it might kill me.” He laughed, resting his head on her shoulder and kissing the soft skin adoringly. “Give me a moment.”

“As many as you need, my love.” She promised.

“I needed this.” He murmured. “Thank you for coming.”

“I’m sorry it took so long, love.” She breathed before pulling back and kissing his forehead. He smiled and returned the kiss, gathering himself before pushing her back and sliding his hand down to her opening again.

-o-o-o-

“So, seeker. You went to see him?” Varric asked innocently, fiddling with Bianca’s trigger as Cassandra smiled down at her breakfast. She looked up and squinted suspiciously.

“I did.” She admitted slowly. “How did you know?”

“You’re smiling.” Varric grinned. There was a pause, Cassandra frowned as his hand tightened on Bianca’s handle. “And there was the noise last night.”

Cassandra’s face burned red; she was on her feet in an instant. “Noise!?”

Varric was standing as well, edging away from the campfire. “You’ve got a hell of a pair of lungs.”

“VARRIC!”

“Heyyy Cassandra.” The Iron Bull called, appearing around the edge of a carriage and waving cheerfully. “Nice work last night! Boss is in better spirits than ever!”

“BULL!”

“What are you all shouting about?” Dorian snapped, appearing from inside the carriages by Iron Bull.

“Cassandra got lucky last night.” Iron Bull explained casually.

“Yes, I heard.” Dorian smiled, flashing his teeth towards the flushing seeker. “Nice work. I only hope our poor Inquisitor can walk after all the excitement. You were going for quite a while.”

Cassandra’s jaw clicked, her fists shaking, face burning. Varric had already made his escape whilst she was distracted. Iron bull and Dorian both hastily went elsewhere as well, leaving Cassandra to seethe by herself.

Doctor, Doctor

(Gimme the news, I've gotta bad case of lovin' you!)

Now that'll be in my head all week.

Moira and Mercy have a tradition of meeting up at conferences and spending  their nights together. It's purely platonic, a relationship of pleasurable convenience. At least it was, until Angela started to fall for her Irish lover.

-o-o-o-

Angela let out a soft sigh and stretched out in the bed, toes curling as she sighed in delighted comfort. She sniffed and let out a quiet growl, sitting up and frowning across the darkened hotel room to where Moira was standing smoking by the window.

“You can’t do that in here.” She said sternly, earning a quiet chuckle from the willowy ginger. Moira set down her cigarette and crushed its smouldering end under a discoloured thumb. She turned and smiled, resting herself against the desk. Angela pursed her lips and shuffled deeper into the covers, eyes flitting from Moira’s sultry smirk to her soft, slim and entirely nude body.

“Always so worried about the rules, darlin’.” She sighed, brushing a hand over her hair. “Your love of bureaucracy is as sweet as ever.”

Angela pouted, cheeks darkening as Moira’s hand slipped over her belly to her sex, gently petting her petals, eyes still locked onto Angela. “Why do I let this happen every time we meet?”

“Specifics, Doctor.” Moira’s tutted.

“Every time we… do this.” Angela sighed, “we meet, and we flirt.”

“And drink.” Moira added, “can’t forget that.”

“Yes… and then we… fool around.” Angela scowled. “But we have nothing in common! When everything is over this is always how things go. We fight and…” she trailed off and sighed tiredly.

Moira paused before padding over to her, kneeling on the bed by her feet and offering a slight smile. “We have fun, don’t we?”

“Well… yes.”

“Why does anything else matter then?” Moira asked, fingers playing over Angela’s knees. “We meet up at these dull affairs and distract ourselves with more… pleasurable activities. This isn’t a relationship, we’re not lovers. Our arrangement is purely… physical.”

Angela sighed and nodded, conceding the point. “of course, but… why us? Why of everyone here am I drawn to you, and you to me?”

“Who says I’m drawn to you?” Moira murmured, sliding the covers back off Angela and kissing her way over her calf.

“M… Moira.” Angela breathed. “Why…?” Moira sighed boredly and slipped her hands around Angela’s leg, petting her soft pale skin with long fingers before nipping her thigh just enough to get her attention.

“Stop talking, darlin’.” She breathed, hands slipping higher up Angela’s body to her hips, yanking her down the bed to a sharp whoop of surprise. “it doesn’t matter.”

“Ahn! B… but?” Angela squeaked as Moira’s lips brushed against her sex, sending shivers rolling down her spine. “M… Moira!”

The ginger chuckled softly between her legs, lips locking over Angela’s sensitive pink pearl and sucking. Angela stopped talking, fingers raking through deep red hair, clinging to Moira’s scalp and pulling her deeper against her opening. 

For her part, Moira merely purred to herself, pleased to have silenced Angela for the time being. She sighed and savoured the taste of the Swiss doctor’s arousal, stabbing her tongue between her petals and beginning to slowly lick back and forth. Angela tasted as sweet as she was with her Overwatch colleagues, Moira could have devoured her pussy for hours, but instead she pulled away as Angela’s orgasm hit with a shrill squeak.

“Are you done talking now, love?” she cooed, licking her lips seductively and grinning at Angela’s blush.

“I… yes.” The blonde nodded. “Very much so.”

“Good.” Moira said brightly, straightening up on her knees and stroking over Angela’s legs before she hopped onto the floor. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Angela groaned a weak agreement and watched as Moira sauntered away, slim hips swaying confidently as she disappeared into the bathroom. She let out low breath and lay back, hand resting over her throbbing heart, feeling how her pulse raced.

Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was something else. All Angela knew was that Moira’s touch was electrifying whenever they met, that her taste was exhilarating, that her scent was intoxicating. How could someone she didn’t even like make her feel so rapturously happy, make her reach such peaks of pleasure? She shivered despite the warmth and smiled at Moira’s jacket, draped carelessly over the back of a chair. Regardless of anything else, the Irish geneticist looked magnificent in a suit.

“Angel.”

Angela started and glanced up, heart fluttering with nervous excitement as she saw Moira emerge from the bathroom. Her alabaster skin’s paleness was accentuated by the purple of her corrupted arm, and now by the bright violet straps of the dildo standing erect between her legs, wound around her thighs and narrow hips. Moira’s hand toyed with the soft pink plastic for a moment, basking in Angela’s attention before she stepped forwards.

“I thought that since we run into each other so often at these conferences… I had better be prepared.” She drawled confidently, slipping up onto the bed and crawling closer and closer to Angela’s prone form. “What do you think?”

“Moira I…”  Angela stuttered.

“Would you like me to take you like this, or are you going to move for me?”

“I… Like this.”

“As you wish, Darlin’”

Moira’s hands were warm and soft as they spread her wide, making her breath hitch and drawing a low coo as she pushed the head of the dildo into her. Moira grinned down at her, leaning close to kiss and nibble at her collar and throat before kissing her deeply. She tasted of cigarettes still, her tongue rough like sandpaper, not that Angela cared. She mewled into Moira’s mouth, hands finding her hips and pulling at her as she began to thrust, tortuously slow, dragging the pink head in and out of her opening.

Angela whined and grabbed Moira by the hips, trying to pull her deeper inside, but failing. Moira may have been thin and wiry, but she was deceptively strong still, easily resisting Angela’s desperate tugging.

“Say please, love.” She breathed into her hear, hands kneading the blonde’s chest like a cat, drawing yet more soft gasps from the Swiss woman beneath her.

“Moira.” Angela growled, “Stop it!”

“You have no patience.” Moira tutted, squeezing her gently, pale thumbs rubbing slowly around her nipples before pinching and tugging at them. She smiled to herself and sighed, “ah, I can’t say no to you.”

Angela groaned as Moira pushed her hips forwards, the plastic cock nestled against her sliding its way into Angela’s depths. Toes curling, eyes squeezing shut, she moaned into the night, trembling as Moira’s hands pulled at her nipples and laughed down at her.

“I’d say my toy has gone down well.” she cooed down at her, bright, mismatched eyes sparkling with lust as Angela rolled against her thrusts.

“Stop talking and… f… fuck me!”

Moira smiled to herself and nuzzled her face down against Angela’s shoulder, kissing and nibbling the flesh all along her neck to her earlobe. Angela’s moans tickled against her skin as she set to the task of fucking the blonde stupid, her hips pounding down at Angela’s quivering cunt with enough passion to make the only sound in their room the sound of flesh slapping together.

Angela’s moans grew all the more passionate as they rutted on the bed like animals, Moira’s smile grew only wider as the blonde squealed beneath her. she leant down and peppered kisses over her skin, worshipping her shoulders, her collarbone, her throat and cheeks and jawline, leaving slight smudges of dark lipstick as marks on her creamy flesh.

Moira let out a quiet grunt as Angela’s legs smacked against her waist, locking behind her hips and guiding her thrusts deeper inside her. The blonde let out a low mew, biting her own lip as her fingers scratched at Moira’s shoulders, blue eyes fluttering with delight.

Moira caught Angela by the chin and pulled her up into a kiss, purring into her mouth as their tongues met and began to duel. Angela’s hands moved to her cheeks, cradling her closer before squeaking as a hand slapped down on her ass in reply.

“Lie back, darlin’” Moira grinned, pushing her down onto the bed with a hand as she straightened up and stretched lazily.  Angela scowled and began to push against Moira’s hand, trying to sit up, only for the ginger to tut sternly and jerk her hips forwards, sinking the dildo deep into Angela’s cunt. “Ah ah, none of that.”

“Moiraaa.” Angela whined petulantly, pouting as Moira slowly slid her free hand through her hair, slicking it back before turning her attention back down to the blonde wriggling beneath her.

“Shush.” She growled hungrily, hands grabbing Angela’s thighs and yanking her over the bed until they were pressed snugly together, Moira’s hips pushing urgently against Angela’s groin, making her quiver with excitement. An infuriatingly superior smile was plastered over Moira’s face as she traced freshly trimmed nails over Angela’s belly. The blonde’s scowl had only just come to her face when Moira slid herself back out of her sopping hole with a tortuously slow roll of her hips.

Angela didn’t know whether to be infuriated or impressed by the skinny redhead’s precision when teasing her, not that it mattered, she suddenly became distracted as Moira resumed her thrusts, sinking herself deeper and deeper with every buck of her hips. Moans and clashing flesh and the soft, wet sounds of the women’s joining filled the hotel room again.

“Moira!”

“Yes, angel?” Moira rasped, her soft Irish lilt coming out as her attention was put solely on fucking Angela.

“Don’t stop!”

“Wasn’t planning to, love.” Moira chuckled, nibbling her lip as Angela’s hands stroked over chest with greedy clutching hands, pinching at her nipples and pawing at her breasts. She leant down as she moved against Angela, attaching herself to a rosy nipple and setting herself to the task of pushing Angela over the edge once and for all.

She succeeded on the third pass of her tongue around Angela’s nipple, her lips pulling at the little thing as she sucked and teased. Angela’s howl of arousal came like an earthquake, her body arching and trembling with sensation. Moira pulled back to admire her handiwork, smiling at Angela’s mouth, open in a breathless pant, her eyes rolled back in her head, and her bright, burning cheeks.

“Scheisse.” Angela croaked, forcing her eyes back open and smiling as she saw Moira’s expression. The ginger’s cheeks were flushed with excitement, her mismatched eyes shining with arousal and something softer, less carnal. Her smile was fond, her caress gentle.

“That good, darlin’?” she asked in a low, husky, rasp.

Angela nodded mutely, cooing as Moira slipped from her.

As Moira walked away from the bed, staring out of the window into the cool night air, something stirred beneath Angela’s breast. It was an answer, of sorts, to the question she had been asking herself ever since Moira had first pushed herself between her legs. She didn’t like Moira. She didn’t like what she did, or how she did it, or how it didn’t bother her that what she did was wrong. But, as Moira said, it didn’t matter. When Moira was with her, smiling and laughing and teasing her, Angela was happy. Because whilst she didn’t like Moira, she did love her.

She slipped from the bed and padded slowly to Moira, slipping her arms around her waist and kissing her shoulder.

“Would… you like to have dinner with me… tomorrow.” She asked softly.

“The conference is over, Darlin’” Moira breathed, pushing back against her as her hands wandered over her belly.

“I know… but I’d like to spend a little more time with you.”

“Are you asking me on a date?”

“Yes.”

Moira was quiet for a while before she let out a soft chuckle. “For someone who says they hate me, you’re awfully affectionate.” She turned and smirked down at her before planting a kiss on her lips. 

Angela smiled, “Would you like to stay the night?”

“I’d love to, angel.” Moira smiled, “But no.” She stepped away from the bed, unstrapping the dildo as she went, oblivious to Angela’s disappointed expression. “I truly do enjoy our evenings together, after all.”

“Is… is there nothing I can do to make you reconsider?”

“Angela, darlin’, I have a train to catch at seven.” Moira sighed, “I’m sorry, truly. I would like nothing more than to keep your company a little longer.”

“Alright.” Angela murmured, sitting on the bed and sighing. She watched as Moira swiftly dressed and threw her toy into her bag.

Moira paused in the doorway, turning back to her and smiling coyly.

“In future, I’ll be sure to leave some time after the conference ends.” She said. Her eyes darted up and down Angela’s naked, sweat-licked form. “As long as next time you pack your suit?”

Angela’s cheeks darkened and she swiped some blonde hair behind her ear. “I… will see what I can do, Doctor O’Deorain.”

“I can hardly wait, Doctor Ziegler.” Moira purred, before slipping out of the door.

The Event of The Season.

Clea Lamont couldn't be happier with her success at making savage northern girls the latest fashion accessory. Now her sights are set on proving her slave is the best by crashing an old crush's ball and showing everyone else up.

-o-o-o-

Savage let out a weak mew of desperate arousal as Clea’s hands abandoned her rod yet again, leaving her throbbing with need in her seat. The carriage rocked as they passed over the uneven gravel pathway that led to the Marron Estate, making Savage groan uncomfortably. She hated carriages, she hated horses, she hated moving by any means other than her own two feet, it always made her stomach turn unpleasantly.

She winced as Clea pressed a single finger against her head and slowly made her rod twirl beneath it. “Mi… mistress.” She said softly. “I’ve been good all of the journey… please may I cum?”

“We’ve only been on the road a half-hour.” Clea laughed, taking Savage’s cheek in her spare hand and caressing her pale freckled skin. “Besides, if I am to prove that you are better than all the other savages people have procured since your debut, you must have a truly potent load ready for me.”

“But I…” she began before hanging her head. “Yes, mistress.”

“Good Savage.” Clea smiled, leaning back and sighing, checking her hair one last time. She looked gorgeous, slipped into a tight, low-cut blue dress that hugged her bosom and exploded outwards at the hips into a wide, flowing skirt. Her throat was draped with pearls, her ears dappled with small golden rings. If Savage had been able to count high enough, she would have known that the cost of all the jewels and gold and velvet could have bought everything the Bear Clan had owned four times over.

Savage herself was mostly nude, as per usual. Wearing only fur-lined brown-leather cuffs around her forearms, shins and throat. A thick iron ring was squeezing uncomfortably around the base of her twitching cock. Her flowing red locks had been combed, brushed, and then deliberately sculpted into a wild mane that flowed down her back. She sat in silence, perfumed and pulsing with arousal as her owner and lover preened at her reflection.

“How may I please ye, mistress?” She asked, wincing as the carriage made a turn, her knuckles turning white as she clung to the seat she was perched on.

Clea smiled fondly and snapped her mirror shut. “Darling all you have to do is remain your magnificent, obedient self. I have it on good authority that your brothers and sisters aren’t nearly as well trained as you. No doubt they will all disappoint in some way or another, whilst you will be a shining example to all.”

“Of course, mistress.” Savage nodded, groaning as the carriage came to a halt. Clea patted her thigh and smiled.

“Shall we take a moment, love? You look quite green.”

“I… will be fine, mistress.” Savage breathed, steadying herself for a moment.

“My girl.” Clea sighed, moving close and stealing a tender kiss. “Were it not for this ball I would be draining you as we speak. I ache for Savage seed.”

“Mistress ye shouldn’t be so r… reckless.” Savage croaked as Clea’s hands squeezed down on her sack. “Wh… what if ye were to become with child?”

“What if indeed.” Clea purred. “Quite the scandal. At least until they saw my pregnant radiance, and the beauty of the little red-haired children. Perhaps that’s one trend I can look forward to setting in the future.”

Savage didn’t know if she was serious or not, having known her mistress for a year now, she might well have been. In any case, there wasn’t time to think on it further, as Clea slid from the carriage with perfect grace, and tugged Savage along behind her by her leash.

The Marron Manor was ten times the size of the Lamont residence, it’s grounds vast enough to house every tent and stable Savage’s clan had ever owned in their hundred-year history. It glowed in the evening dark like a beacon of civilisation, pillars and archways all meticulously carved, every window lit by a roaring fire. Savage shivered as she was led up the short stairway to the main entrance. The Manor made her feel small and puny, and not in the perversely arousing way her dearest mistress did.

“Come.” Clea’s voice called out sternly as the leash pulled taut. Savage shook herself and obeyed, pattering up to her mistress’ side as they stepped through the doors and into the manor itself.

“Clea darling!” A familiar voice called out, Savage winced as Allian Chamberlain bobbed over, husband in tow. “You look delightful.”

“As do you dear,” Clea purred, taking her by the jaw as she kissed her cheeks and sealing their mouths together. Allian’s husband seethed mutely as Allian laughed, only offering a weak slap to Clea’s pale cheek as a retort. “And you must be Jonathan.” She smiled, turning from her friend to the tall, thin man glaring at her murderously.

“Lady Lamont.” He replied coldly, eying Savage’s nude, stoic form with suspicion and more than a little envy. “I should not be surprised you made an appearance tonight. I know how you like to insert yourself into any event regardless of whether you are welcome or not.”

“Oh hush, Jon.” Allian snapped before smiling and patting his cheek. “Be a dear and fetch us some drinks, I must introduce my mistress.”

Jonathon turned red and turned on his heel, stalking away as Allian pulled a small blonde to her side, pushing her face against her breasts. For a moment Savage wondered if the immense fleshy things would break their confinement in Allian’s extremely low-cut gown, but alas, both pale udders remained fully within her clothes, even as the blonde was forced between them.

“This is Marigold.” Allian purred, a mix of both lust and pride in her voice as the little blonde stared up at Clea and Savage. “Quite the little darling, I assure you. I had her shipped down from the north just the other week from some awful little clan by the coast… oh what was the name? The falcon? No, no it was… hawk?”

“Kestrel.” Marigold growled, tiny fists balling in their restraints with indignant rage.

“That was it.” Allian cooed, kissing her short blonde hair fondly. “Now hush, I said to be silent.”

Marigold scowled to herself, eyes scanning over Savage before she finally caught her eye.

‘Who are you?’ Her eyes said, soft green things, almost too big for her head.

‘A slave like you.’ Savage replied silently, keeping a watchful gaze on her mistress just in case she was needed.

‘How can you stand here and do nothing?!’ Marigold demanded with a furious glare. ‘You are a warrior; these frilly little women cannot control you!’

Savage hung her head for a moment before shrugging. ‘I am happy.’ She smiled, moving close to Clea’s arm and delighting as her mistress casually began to toy with her thick red bush.

Marigold sneered and wriggled defiantly in Allian’s grip, prompting a sharp smack to the rear from the dark-haired woman.

“Stop that.” She hissed before sighing up at Clea. “I don’t know how you trained yours so well darling I really don’t. I’ve tried all I can think and still she’s so… wilful.”

Clea chuckled and wrapped her fingers around Savage’s shaft, making the girl groan huskily. “Technique is key, dear. Not too rough… not too lenient. You must simply threaten what will hurt most if they disobey, and offer their simple heart’s deepest desire if they are good loyal girls, isn’t that right, sweet?”

“Yes, Mistress.” Savage nodded.

Allian sighed. “Easy to say, Clea, harder to do. I’ve offered her every delight I can think of, she simply refuses to behave. And my punishments hardly seem to make a difference, I’ve had her whipped, spanked, humiliated. She will not break.”

“Perhaps you are yet to find the right incentive.” Clea sighed, “I’d be more than happy to assist. But you must excuse me, our dearest Suzanne seems to be having trouble.” Allian sighed and waved her away, grabbing Marigold by the arm and landing another harsh slap to her reddened arse.

“S… stop it!” Suzanne was squeaking, pushing away one of her slaves only for the other to sneak up behind her and grab her chest, long slender fingers sinking into her heaving flesh as Suzanne squeaked and batted her away. “Stop it I say, o… or I shall spank you!”

“Troubles, my dearest kitten?” Clea asked innocently, watching the display with amusement and bringing Savage to her side to hide them from sight. Suzanne looked up at her and groaned with despair, shoving both naked girls deeper into the nook and trying to fill up the opening with her slim frame.

“Oh, Clea they’re awful!” She whined, “They were so well-behaved at home but now they won’t listen! They’ve ruined my dress and… and they’re determined to have their way with me. Here! In the middle of lady Marron’s home!”

“Have you allowed them to enjoy you before, by any chance?” Clea asked, eyeing the twins as they admired her from behind Suzanne’s arm.

“O… Only when they were good.” Suzanne whimpered. “They were obedient when I offered… so I… I indulged them… they were good I swear!”

“You’ve allowed them to take you whenever and wherever they liked, as long as they didn’t make trouble.” Clea sighed gently. “Hardly good discipline. As far as they’re concerned, they are your mistresses, and not the other way around. Or am I mistaken?”

“She sees right through you, she does.” One of the twins growled into Suzanne’s ear, grabbing her breasts again and yanking her dress down to expose them. “Cleverer then you fer shore. Bigger an’ softer too.”

“Clea, help me.” Suzanne pleaded, “You’ve made yours so wonderfully tame!”

“Shut yer trap, whore.” The other twin grinned, hand clapping over Suzanne’s mouth as she snatched up her dress and rammed herself inside Suzanne’s poor unprepared pucker to a stifled shriek. “Shouldn’ ave’ tried takin’ us from our home if ye’ weren’ strong enough to andle’ us.”

Clea sighed and stepped aside, “Savage dearest, please assist Suzie.”

“With pleasure, mistress.” Savage growled, pushing Suzanne aside and shoving the twins back into the nook, grabbing their cocks in her fists and squeezing.

A pair of pained howls rang out from the dark as Clea helped Suzanne up and fixed her dress. Her friend whimpered with humiliation and rubbed her hand between her legs, her rear still aching from the invasion.

“Two?” Clea scolded gently. “You’re far too meek love! Even one would tax you unless they were entirely without spirit!” Suzanne whined and nodding miserably.

“I… I was rash, I see that now.” She mumbled. “I just wanted… I’m tired of being treated like a little girl. I’m tired of being the good one. I hate my husband. I want the kind of sex you have! So passionate and rough and… and I want a slave like Savage, she’s so gorgeous and strong. I wanted someone to ravish me for once. Not treat me like I’m going to break.”

“I completely understand, dear.” Clea sighed, “but you have rather terribly underestimated your authority when it comes to these matters.”

“Oh, my dress is all ruffled.” Suzanne whined. Clea cleared her throat sternly, taking Suzanne by the jaw and squeezing.

“Suzie.” She said, “Take your pets to my home, Annie will see that they are properly secured. I will personally see they are whipped into shape.”

“But Clea…”

“I will invite you over to watch, of course.” Clea interrupted, smiling gently and patting her cheek. “Go, please. I promise once I’ve finished with them, you’ll never have a moment of trouble ever again.” Suzanne pouted before yelping as Savage shoved her slaves out of the alcove onto the floor, both of them whining and cowering down at Clea’s feet. Savage emerged from the dark, brushing her hair behind her shoulder again and scowling down at the girls. Suzanne snatched up their leashes and dragged them away, still trying to tug her skirts back in place from where they had been yanked aside.

Clea gave Savage’s rod an appreciative pat before kissing her cheek. “Wonderful job, sweet. Now, the dance floor is calling, and I have attention to steal.”

“Of course, mistress.” Savage nodded, allowing a small smile at Clea’s excitement as she turned and swept away.

-o-o-o-

Clea smiled charmingly at the scowling woman in her arms, spinning her around on her dainty little feet before snatching her close by the waist. “My my, Lady Marron, I had no idea you were so graceful.”

Lady Marron’s lip curled in an unimpressed snarl as Clea ignored her, hand wandering lower and lower from her hip to her rear.

Ambrose Marron was a tall, thin, dark haired woman, famous for her stern demeanour. She had her hands in a hundred enterprises, had the ear of the queen herself, had a dozen rumoured lovers and, perhaps most enticingly, had absolutely no patience for Clea.

Clea, on the other hand, found Ambrose entirely delightful. She was slim and lean, stern, but not without humour. The cut of her jawline, the subtle curves of her chest, her short-cropped hair like a shock of jet, all were sublime.

“You were not invited, Lamont.” Ambrose growled, soft welsh accent hidden by years of training, but still detectable. Clea smiled and batted her lashes.

“Come now Rosie, I couldn’t miss one of your famous balls.” She cooed, “what kind of friend would I be then, hmm?”

“I have many friends, Lamont.” Ambrose sniffed, dark eyes glancing around the ballroom at her guests. “You are certainly not one of them.”

“Rosie, you wound me.” Clea pouted. “I consider you one of my dearest friends!”

“I consider you an annoyance.”

“Oh Ambrose, why must we fight?”

“Because you refuse to leave me be?”

“How could I stay away, my love? My dearest heart?” Clea cooed, spinning Ambrose around again as the music swelled, catching her hands and squeezing her as their fingers laced. “I ache for you, darling. Why must you torture me so with your cruel rejections?”

“I have no interest in you.” Ambrose smiled coldly, stepping back and matching her curtsy as the dance ended. “Or your perversions. So please, enjoy the ball, it will certainly be the last time you set foot on my property without my guards having you detained.”

“Such promises.” Clea purred, blowing her a kiss as she turned away. She smiled to herself, pleased with the evening’s first round of teasing, already planning how to needle her paramour next. A low sigh escaped her as she came to her place, where Savage was waiting in her usual stoic glory. “She is magnificent.”

“Aye, mistress.” Savage nodded tiredly. “Lady Marron certainly has a certain appeal.”

“Oh sweet, are we jealous?” Clea cooed, reaching up to toy with her cheek. “Aren’t you who I take to bed each night?”

Savage sighed and nodded mutely, her cheeks flushing as Clea’s hand stroked over her length. Clea smiled up at her, kissing a rosy nipple before turning her gaze back to Ambrose.

“I must have her, my Savage.” She breathed, mostly to herself. “I simply must. Those eyes… that scowl… my heart is all a flutter.”

Savage opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted as something smashed over her head, sending blood and shards of glass tumbling over her onto the floor. She managed a dull grunt and toppled to her knees, steadying herself with an arm as she touched her head in confusion. Clea let out a sharp shriek of dismay, and suddenly she was on her side, something hot and heavy pressing down on her as she was smacked in the face.

“You! Ah knew ah recognised you!”

Savage blinked in confusion and brought her hands up to protect her face, forcing herself up and shoving her attacker aside.

The girl was maybe half her size, but powerfully muscled and already at an advantage. Her dirty blonde hair was braided neatly, keeping her face clear and making the expression of hate on it impossible to mistake.

Savage growled and stood, balling her fists and swiping the blood out of her face.

“I do not know who ye think ye are, but yer embarrassing yeself and ye mistress.”

“My mistress can hang.” The girl spat, leaping at her only to be swatted aside. “Takin your head’ll be sweeter than any punishment can spoil.”

She darted forwards again, managing to land a strike on her gut that knocked Savage back a pace. “Your clan took everythin’ from me!” She roared; “an’ you don’t even remember!?”

“Stop this ye daft child!” Savage spat, slapping her aside and snarling as she tumbled against Clea, knocking her mistress to the floor.

“Ah’ll bash your brains in.” The girl hissed, preparing to leap at her again. “For ma father, an’ for ma brothers, an’ for ma clan.”

She pounced, and Savage caught her by the throat, lifting her high and squeezing her until she was spluttering and squirming rather than trying to fight back.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Ambrose snapped, appearing beside Savage and smacking her sharply in the belly.

“This whelp attacked me, milady.” Savage said, fighting to keep her tone deferential. “And knocked my mistress to the ground. How should I deal with her?”

“Annika, is this true?” Ambrose snarled, turning her ire to the squirming, red-faced blonde.

“Clan… murderers…” Annika spluttered, “My family…”

“Whatever your life was before you came to be mine means nothing!”

“ffffuck… you.”

“Who is your mistress?” Ambrose demanded, turning to look up at Savage.

“That would be me, Lady Marron.” Clea sniffed, collecting herself and brushing off her gown as she stood. “I must profoundly apologise for this business. My dear Savage is a loyal girl, but she lacks restraint.”

Ambrose’s lip curled uncomfortably at Clea before she sighed, clearly more upset that she was forced to take her side than she was that one of her slaves had caused such a scene. “No… Lady Lamont… it is I who must apologise for the…” she scowled and shook her head. “For the insult, and for any distress my slave may have caused. Rest assured she will be severely disciplined.”

“It’s quite alright, Lady Marron.” Clea smiled, surprisingly not choosing to push the situation any further. “I trust your punishment will be more than satisfactory. I regret I will have to attend to my girl’s injury, but please don’t allow this to put a sour note on your marvellous party.”

“I… will not.” Ambrose frowned quietly as Clea gently took Savage’s leash and tugged her away.

-o-o-o-

“Mistress, I’m sorry, I know how much ye were looking forward to the ball.” Savage sighed as she was pulled into the carriage. There was a lot of rustling fabric and she frowned, glancing up only to be tackled for the second time that evening.

Clea had practically torn her way out of her gown and set herself the task of pushing her tongue as deep down Savage’s throat. Her hands clawed at Savage’s hips, pulling her close even as they knocked roughly at the carriage wall. Savage mewled into her mistress’ mouth, arms winding about her waist adoringly.

“You’re not too hurt, dear?” Clea breathed, moving back enough so that she had room to hop up into Savage’s arms, the Amazonian redhead resting her just above her throbbing cock.

“Just a scratch, Mistress.” Savage croaked, breathless from the kiss.

“Good girl.” Clea rasped, voice dripping with need. “Now fuck me.”

“Mistress…”

“Take me this instant you gorgeous beast or I’ll not have you in my bed for the rest of the year.”

Savage sighed and nuzzled against Clea’s cheek, gripping her tight and bringing her to the tip of her rod. She slipped inside easily with a low, hungry groan. Clea’s nails cut shallow paths down her back as she began to thrust, growling and pushing her back against the other wall of the carriage.

Clea moaned with lust and sank her teeth into Savage’s shoulder, eliciting a pained hiss and a sharp smack to her quivering rear.

“Don’t do that.” Savage growled, hand planting itself just to the side of Clea’s pale blonde head like a tree trunk. Clea giggled softly, kissing the pink marks her teeth had left in her pale skin.

“Are you giving, ah! Me… orders, my dearest S… Savage?” Clea groaned, panting for breath as she was pounded.

“It hurt.” Savage replied, yanking Clea’s hips down to meet her, thick red curls tickling the sopping mess of Clea’s opening. “Mistress.” Clea laughed breathlessly and cupped Savage’s cheeks, pulling her into a deep, wet kiss. Tongues and lips met and mashed against one another above as cock and cunt slipped together below, both equally as wet and messy.

Clea’s hair tangled and stuck to her forehead, glued by sweat and stray spit, even as Savage dragged her tongue over her pale mistress’ cheek. Fingers dug into flesh, caressing shoulders and fat heavy breasts, supporting Clea’s body by cupping her rear. Pale legs hooked tighter and tighter behind Savage’s hips, trembling with overwhelmed glee as Savage’s cock pushed as far as it would go into her sex.

“S… savage.” Clea croaked. “More.”

“I’m close… mistress.” Savage mewed in reply.

Clea squeaked with need and braced herself against Savage’s broad shoulders as the girl’s thrusts became more and more urgent, her cock spreading her wider than she’d ever felt before. Savage’s hand found her scalp, fingers grabbing her pale silver hair tightly and pulling her into another kiss.

Savage erupted inside Clea’s sodden cunt, spraying her seed deep into her depths. The heat was incredible, throbbing deep inside Clea’s cunt as Savage cradled her, panting like a dog. She couldn’t feel her legs, but honestly didn’t much care. The most wonderful glow was washing over her as she sat, nestled on her Savage’s cock, the girl’s spunk beginning to ooze from her petals.

“Sh… shouldn’t have done that.” Savage breathed, hand petting Clea’s messy silver hair. “If… if you get pregnant.”

“Savage…” Clea cooed, reaching out and putting her finger to the redhead’s lips. “N… no more… talk.”

Savage pursed her lips and gently shuffled closer, nuzzling her head down against Clea’s shoulder. Clea sighed, utterly content, and fell asleep with her dearest slave still buried deep in her twat. 

The Curse of Aphrodite

During a battle with Cheetah, Wonder Woman accidentally destroys an ancient shrine to the goddess of love. Enraged, Aphrodite enchants Diana and Barbara Ann to fall helplessly in love, turning hatred to passion in the middle of the jungle.

-o-o-o-

The noise of the jungle was interrupted by a crash, as a woman was sent flying through an ancient shrine and tumbled onto the floor. Diana let out a low groan, winded by her impact with the hard-baked earth. She struggled up onto her knees and brushed rubble out of her hair, blinking as blood trickled down into her left eye. Crashing through the wall had probably done more damage to her than hitting the ground, not that either experience had been particularly pleasant.

A statue of a woman crashed to the ground beside her, its head rolling away into the thick dark foliage. Diana winced, sitting up and staring stupidly around at the trees and the shrine she had come crashing through just moments before. There was a low groaning sound, and the shrine collapsed in on itself, sending yet more dust and shrapnel up into the air, raining down on Wonder Woman’s confused form.

Dazed, she barely registered the growl until Cheetah was almost on top of her, managing to bring her arms up and deflect her claws before they could sink themselves into her chest. Cheetah roared, overbalancing and rolling head-over-heels onto the dirt behind Diana. The amazon groaned and rolled onto her front, pushing off with her legs and leaping into Cheetah’s side.

“Stop this, Barbara!” she shouted, grabbing Cheetah’s wrists and trying to wrestle her to the ground. Her one-time friend howled with rage and clawed at her with her legs, leaving deep gouges in Diana’s bare thighs with her claws. Diana shrieked with pain, and in a second of distraction, Cheetah escaped her grasp and darted away.

Diana staggered to her feet, legs shaking with pain as she balled her fists and scowled around the clearing. Cheetah was as fast as ever and had disappeared into the trees immediately. She glanced back at the ancient shrine their confrontation had begun at, before growling and swiping the blood out of her face. “End this, Barbara Ann.” She called. “Surrender yourself. You’ve never been able to defeat me in all the years we’ve known each other.”

There was a low growl from the trees, too quiet to pinpoint where it was coming from. “Barbara Ann! What do you hope to accomplish here?” she shouted again, shifting her footing and bringing a hand down to her hip. If she could get her lasso around Cheetah’s legs, she could stop her easily enough, but it was still a big ‘if’.

There was a flash of movement and she spun, lasso darting out in a glowing arc. Time seemed to slow as Diana moved against Cheetah’s attack, heel dragging dirt as she spun and sunk to a knee, preparing to pull with all her might as soon as Cheetah was caught. Cheetah was running, claws exposed, fangs bared in vicious glee, her eyes glowed with hunger. The lasso’s glowing cord swung towards her ankles, and she leapt. Diana’s eyes widened as the lasso slipped completely beneath Barbara Ann’s legs and the feral woman crashed into her, claws going for her throat.

She hit the ground with a violent thud, pinned on her back, using all her strength to stop Cheetah’s talons and even then, only slowing their descent down into her throat. “Die.” Cheetah growled, teeth bared with delight, “Die now, Wonder Woman.”

“B…ar… bara.” Diana croaked. “Stop.”

“No.” Cheetah hissed, “I win! I kill you! After years and years and years I KILL YOU! I WIN! And I feed on your filthy lying flesh.”

Diana let out a low groan of desperation and then felt a pulse, a vibration, rolling through her body. Her eyes widened as Cheetah pulled back, before snarling and skittering away. She straightened up, still gasping for breath. “Wh… what are you doing?”

“Not right.” Cheetah growled, padding back and forth restlessly, her tail swishing behind her. “Doesn’t feel right. Want to kill you but want you… not dead.”

“Barbara Ann… I don’t want to fight you, I never have.” Diana breathed, slowly getting to her feet, careful not to startle the cat woman. “We were friends.”

“Trusted you, respected you.” Cheetah nodded, baring her teeth. “L… loved you. Then thisss happened… Because of you!”

“I tried to stop you, Barbara Ann.” Diana said softly, brushing dirt and shrapnel from her body. “I failed, and I’m sorry. You were my friend, and I loved you dearly as well.”

“No!” Cheetah spat, crouching down and hissing at the floor. “I loved you. Wanted you. So pretty, so proud, so perfect. I wanted power, wanted to be like you, be with you. Never wanted… this.”

“Barbara Ann… I don’t know what to say.”

“You say nothing!” Cheetah spat, “Don’t want pity… all I want is to be frrrree of this curse… for the hunger to go away.”

“Barbara…” Diana said quietly, reaching out and gingerly placing her hand over Cheetah’s shoulder. “Let me help, please?” Cheetah growled softly and glanced at her, hugging herself uncomfortably as the Amazon smiled.

“You don’t know how.” She muttered, “You’re lying… again!”

“No.” Diana replied firmly, taking her other shoulder and squeezing. “No, I’m not. I may not know how yet, but I swear to you on my honour that I will free you of this curse.” Cheetah blinked up at her, expression searching, before quickly darting up and kissing her. Diana blinked in surprise, staring as Cheetah skittered back a few paces, shoulders hunched, and ears pressed flat against her head. “Barbara Ann…”

“Stop it.” Cheetah spat, baring her teeth in a half-hearted snarl. “Don’t patrrrronize me.” Diana closed the gap between them in an instant, cupping Cheetah’s face and bringing her mouth down to meet hers. Cheetah mewled softly into the kiss, hands moving to paw at Diana’s as they held her.

The kiss ended. Cheetah’s eyes fluttered open and shyly avoided the amazon’s gaze. Diana’s thumb brushed against her furred cheek. She could feel her body humming with excitement, the same eager vibration that came before she sank her fangs into her prey’s throat, but softer, warmer. She wanted to be closer to Diana, wanted to taste her, touch her, sink something other than her claws deep into her.

By the way Diana moved close against her, hands cradling her hip and the back of her head, the way she pushed another hungry kiss to Cheetah’s lips, she must have felt the same. She reached out and carefully took Diana by the waist, tightening her grip when Diana didn’t flinch away from her.

The amazon pulled away to breathe, forehead still pressed tight to Cheetah’s. “Barbara… I… I feel so drawn to you. I can’t express it.” she groaned as Cheetah latched onto her neck, lips and teeth offering gentle nibbles instead of the deadly bite she might once have made. “You’re intoxicating.”

“Hated you for so long.” Cheetah murmured, pawing at Diana’s hips, standing on her toes just to meet the amazon’s lips. “Loved you for longerrrrr. You swear you will cure me?”

“I swear.” Diana breathed.

“And then… what?” she demanded, tearing herself away from Diana’s soft tan skin and scowling up at her. “What happens to me?”

“You… You will be mine?” Diana groaned hopefully, hands playing over cheetah’s ribs “Stay by my side, share my bed, my heart?” Cheetah cooed happily before pouncing. Diana may have been stronger than her, but she was distracted, and toppled onto her back with a dull grunt of pain. Cheetah was straddling her in an instant, hands on her shoulders as her thighs squeezed down on her hips. She was practically shaking with excitement, something in her primal nature clicking as her instincts turned from hunting to mating.

Diana’s costume was already weakened from her attacks, it tore like paper beneath her claws, making the amazon yip with surprise as she found herself topless. “Not yourrrs.” Cheetah growled, grinning as her fingers sank into Diana’s soft, heavy breasts and began to squeeze her. “You’ll be mine!”

“B… Barbara A… Ah!” Diana yelped as the tips of Cheetah’s claws scratched down her muscular belly, tracing over each ab with delight. “Be gentle!”

“Scared, prrrrrincess?” Cheetah growled, leaning down and grinning as Diana squirmed beneath her. she brought a claw up to her lips, a razor-sharp talon toying with her gently. “I won’t hurrrrt you… unless you want me to.”

“Ann.” Diana croaked, squeezing her eyes shut, brow furrowing with concentration. “Don’t play with me.” Cheetah sighed to herself and bowed down, gently licking over the amazon’s cheek before biting down on her ear, careful not to pierce her skin even as her hands slipped down, claws extending to shred Diana’s skirt. She was deliberate, precise, slicing the leather like butter and throwing it aside, leaving her lover in nothing but her panties.

“Pretty, prrrrretty.” She cooed, lips curling as she pushed herself between Diana’s thighs, “Are all amazons as pretty as you, prrrincess?”

“I… y… yes?” Diana groaned.

“Hundreds of women.” Cheetah mewled, cutting the waistband of Diana’s underwear at the hips and easily brushing the fabric aside. “All as magnificent as you… I might just melt with excitement.”

“Barbaraaaa.” Diana whined, “Stop talking and take meee.”

“Impatient, princess.” Cheetah tutted, slipping her fingers around Diana’s thighs and playing with the flesh around her petals. “I want to savour this.”

“No!” Diana growled, grabbing her by the waist and throwing her to the side, using her momentum to roll on top of her and pin her to the earth. “I’m not your plaything… and I’m not some blushing maiden innocent to love. I am a woman. I am Wonder Woman. And I want you to fuck me now!”

Cheetah purred, eyes drinking in Diana in all her furious, muscular glory, before shoving her back and pouncing onto her again. Their lips locked in a heated kiss, Cheetah’s fingers immediately slipping deep into the amazon’s slit and making Diana mewl into her mouth. The amazon rolled herself against her as she was fucked, eyes fluttering with delight, lips releasing soft coos and moans whenever Cheetah withdrew for breath.

Her claws etched gentle scratches into Diana’s tan flesh, not enough to truly hurt, only to excite her prey… her mate. She pulled away from the kiss at last and snarled with glee, drinking in Diana’s lustful pant and wide blue eyes. “Ann…” she croaked, hands clinging to Cheetah’s fur as the great car grinned and continued to slide her fingers deep into her.

“Good Prrrrrincess.” Cheetah purred, her free hand gently resting over a fat, soft tit, claws extended, scratching at the sensitive, heaving flesh. “Scream for me.” Diana groaned as Cheetah slipped a third furred finger into her sex, fingers tightening around her coarse spotted fur.

“Nnnnnnnn.” She managed, eyes squeezed tight shut, teeth ground together. Her grip was to tight it began to hurt, strands of fur began tearing out of Cheetah’s arms. She snarled and pushed her thumb against the amazon’s glistening pearl and was rewarded by the scream she had craved. “Barbaraaaaaaaa! Don’t stoooooooop!”

Her cry was music to Cheetah’s ears, a low gleeful laugh rumbling up from her throat as she nuzzled close against Diana’s chest, kissing and licking and rubbing her face over every inch of glorious bronzed flesh she could. Diana mewled, hands moving to cradle Cheetah’s head as she suckled at her tit, lips sucking at her nipple, teeth tugging at it with delicate care, tongue swirling deftly around its tiny sensitive form.

“So… close!” Diana croaked, fingers sinking into Cheetah’s golden fur and clinging to her as her fingers worked faster and faster into her sopping cunt. “Nyaaiiii!” She screamed as her orgasm crashed over her harder than anything she’d ever felt in all her life. Cheetah’s lips were at her opening as soon as her scream first echoed in the back of her throat, sucking and lapping up her arousal with ravenous hunger.

Diana fell back, chest heaving, fingers clawing at the dusty earth at her back. “I… I’ve never… felt anything… like you.” She wheezed, breathless. “I feel… ablaze with lust… I must have you!”

Cheetah cooed and slipped backwards, spreading her furred thighs and curling her tail invitingly. “Come take me then, Wonder Woman, show me how an Amazon eats a pussy. If you can remember how after all the men you’ve been chasing.”

“I remember quite well enough, Barbara Ann.” Diana growled softly, advancing on her hands and knees until her shoulders brushed Cheetah’s parted knees. “Whilst it seems your lack of practice these past years has left you little better than an amateur.” Cheetah growled from the back of her throat, pushing Diana’s head down to her opening and hooking her legs behind the amazon’s back, tail whipping about in excitement.

Diana smirked to herself and gently kissed her lover’s mound, parting the short, soft hair with her lips and delving deep into her pink insides with her tongue. Cheetah’s yip of surprise was more than welcome to her ears as she set to work, as were her strong, padded hands gripping her temples. “M… more!” Cheetah groaned, mouth open in a soft pant as Diana pressed herself tight between her thighs. “Diana! More!”

Diana refused, moving at a slow methodical pace, enjoying Cheetah’s ever-more-desperate cries for her to move faster, harder, rougher. Cheetah’s taste smothered her, filling her mouth, coating her cheeks. Her craving for it burned hotter and hotter, her own sex throbbing with need for her beloved.

Cheetah’s cries grew shrill and soft, like a kitten’s mews, as Diana’s tongue wormed as deep as it could into her, before recoiling and flicking at her clit. Her fingers raked through the thick black curls of Diana’s hair, clawing and clutching at her. “More… Diana I want m…more!”

Diana ignored her, continuing to tease her with vindictive glee.

“Dianaaa?”

Diana’s tongue flicked her clit again, before she sank herself back down into her depths.

“P… please!?”

“Thank you.” Diana chuckled, pulling away and gently nuzzling her face against Cheetah’s inner thighs, kissing her fur adoringly. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

“Cruel bitch.” Cheetah whined before squeaking as Diana’s fingers parted her folds and began to pump inside, even as Diana turned her attention back to her clit. She squealed and howled with arousal as Diana’s expert technique brought her to the edge of climax in mere minutes, leaving her panting and helpless.

“Wuh… wait.” Diana moaned, freeing herself from Cheetah’s legs easily and shuffling closer. “M… move against me, move your leg…” Cheetah nodded wordlessly, moving around so one leg was slipped over Diana, the other beneath her. Diana nibbled her lip in anticipation as she began to roll her hips against cheetah, who did the same. Both women cooed as they rubbed against one another, moaning and crying and screaming with lust as they were overcome by sensation.

“Mine!” Cheetah managed to roar, clawing at Diana’s shoulders and pulling her close into a furious, messy kiss. Diana’s eyes rolled back in her head with delight, kissing Cheetah back even as her hand moved to her lasso and sent it swishing out, wrapping the two of them tight before pulling taut and trapping them against each other.

“Barbaraaaaaaaa!” Diana howled as she came again, her scream mixing with Cheetah’s as she was met by the first orgasm in so many years.

They fell exhausted onto the dusty earth, panting and quivering with excitement.

“Love you.”

Neither of them knew which said it first, the lasso forcing the truth from their lips.

Once it was said more came pouring out as the two women twitched on the ground, trapped and enslaved to their sensations.

“I love you.”

“I want you.”

“I need you.”

“Touch me.”

“Taste me.”

“Fuck me.”

“Fuck mee.”

“Fuck meeeee!”

A quiet cough sounded, and the lasso was unwound from their naked, sweaty forms, leaving them panting on the dirt. “Wh… who…?” Diana managed to croak, eyes moving up to see the woman standing over them. She was naked and pale and gorgeous. Blonde hair, soft lips, glowing eyes. “Lady… Aphrodite?”

“Diana of Themyscera.” Aphrodite said coldly, her gaze moving onto Cheetah’s twitching body. “Barbara Ann Minerva of England. I am tired of you.”

“What… you herrrrre for?” Cheetah growled weakly, pushing herself up onto her knees.

“There is deep love within you both. Yet hatred pushes you to hide it from even yourselves. You fight and shout and scream lies to one another, you destroy, when you should love. When you should spread love.” Aphrodite growled. “Zeus has tolerated you for too long, he would have us let you rampage unchecked, but you destroyed one of my favourite shrines and I am through allowing you to hide your love behind this childish façade of enmity.”

“M…my lady.” Diana groaned, forcing herself to her feet. “Forgive us…”

“No.” Aphrodite scowled, “You two will never again be able to hide your love for one another, you will show this love proudly, and you will endeavour to spread it across this mortal world.”

There was a flash, and the goddess was gone. Diana blinked and stumbled, still gathering herself.

“Wh… what should we do…?” She asked, only to be interrupted as Cheetah tackled her onto the ground, lust still burning in her eyes. Whatever questions Diana might have asked were forgotten as Cheetah’s long, rough tongue found her opening and began to greedily lap at her.

She moaned with delight and sighed adoringly down to between her legs where her beloved Cheetah devoured her.

A brief pause

No uploads this week or next as i'm away on holiday. However I do have a number of things in the works, such as...

Wonder Woman and Cheetah destroy a shrine to Aphrodite in one of their battles. The goddess makes them fall madly in love as punishment.

(Classic!)

Clea Lamont attends a ball with her faithful Savage by her side.

(Hijinks ensue)

And:

Moira and Mercy meet at a conference, get drunk and wake up together in bed.

(Because Moicy is best.)

See y'all after the break.