A Perverted Path to Victory

Sara Brown

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The headquarters of the Powdered Lead in the captured city of Ta-Pet was, in accordance with Sara’s uncompromising distaste for wealth, a brutally spartan place. Despite being temporarily given the entire estate of one of the city’s former nobility to quarter their troops, the actual room Sara and Evie worked out of contained exactly eight pieces of furniture. No more, no less. A bookshelf filled with folded reports from the Powdered Lead’s officers sat next to an overly-long desk, behind which sat the two wooden chairs Sara and Evie used to do their work, while the far wall had four identical chairs, their neat line broken by the room’s lone door. Beyond that, the room was completely bare. They didn’t even bother with a lantern, since Hurlish hated them working late. The only light came from a small, thin window placed high on the wall behind their desk. When it was too dark to work any longer, they left.

Evie was sitting primly at her desk, listening to a report from an enterprising young officer in the Powdered Lead, a woman apprenticed to the outfit’s Armorer. Hurlish currently occupied one of the chairs against the far wall, pretending to listen to the young woman who was reporting on the status of the Powdered Lead’s supplies. From her vantage point, Sara listened to the young Armorer’s apprentice drone on.

“...Imperial blackpowder has been of decent quality so far, though any acceptance of it requires a thorough inspection to ensure there aren’t any barrels with poor granulation, which is still occuring at a rate in around one in thirty…”

The anxious woman was reading off the sheet of notes she’d brought with her without looking up for a single instant. She was a cute girl, about twenty or so, with cropped ginger hair that was, being native only to the regions further north than Sporatos, downright exotic in Tulian. Army life had brought a firm stoutness to what would have otherwise been a short, reedy build, but she was not as muscular as the majority of the frontline combatants. Though her name was ‘Blessing,’ given to her by a particularly devout Healer of a mother, her thick rural accent and unerring politeness had earned her the ubiquitous nickname “Bless-ya,” after the way she invariably responded to every sneeze in earshot.

Blessya was also the one officer Sara had been waiting so patiently for. Despite her fiercely traditional rural upbringing, Blessya’s bright button nose was disguising what Sara suspected to be a deeply freaky girl in the making. Sara’s Blessings let her recall how, exactly a hundred and eighty-four days ago, at 2:36 in the morning, the woman had begun a drunk rant into an open air tavern about how much she loved the idea of getting tossed around in bed, earning a cheered response from raptly listening patrons, who further encouraged her to talk about a plethora of other things– including her interest in spanking, choking, and being slapped. The next day, Blessya had all but collapsed with relief when she confirmed that none of her even-more-drunken squadmates remembered the diatribe, but unbeknownst to her, Sara had, and she literally couldn’t forget it. Then, twenty-nine days ago, Blessya had once more gotten into another less-than-sober argument about how “it didn’t make sense that everyone in the army was so worried about getting caught fucking in their tent, because everyone can already hear it, so it’s downright rude that you’re not give us a show as well.” That one actually had been remembered, and she’d since been subjected to a solid amount of good-natured mockery from her fellow soldiers. As far as Sara could tell, only she and Blessya had yet realized the resulting blushes on the young soldier’s face weren’t entirely the product of embarrassment.

Armed with that knowledge, Sara and Hurlish had determined that, after eliminating a handful of others, Blessya was the perfect candidate to use in their endless quest to pry at Evie’s screwy psyche. See, they’d realized that their wife had somehow etched a hard line in her brain between her public persona and her “real” self, the one that only came out to play in private rooms and shadowed back alleys. That divide had been slowly strengthening in the months since her collar was removed, something neither Sara nor Hurlish liked.

Ironically, it seemed that there was a sort of freedom that had been lost with the removal of her collar. Evie had thrived under the ambiguity her so-called slavery provided. In their wife’s mind, she was no threat to Sara’s reputation, because Sara could always blame Evie’s eccentricities on an ill-behaved “slave” she was too sentimental to punish, while Evie herself, on the rare occasions she needed to straighten up, could blame her actions on a Master who constantly gave her sexually-charged orders. Neither was true, of course, but the availability of the lie had been soothing.

So Sara and Hurlish had started working to break her back down. Evie would never be– and honestly didn’t want to become, now that they’d had Tahn– a full-time sex pet, but she certainly wasn’t the stone-hearted secretary she’d started imitating. Sara and Hurlish wanted their wife to have a more honest way of life.

Which was why Sara, who had been quietly kneeling under Evie’s desk for the better part of an hour, finally leaned forward, reaching out to grasp the base of Evie’s cock.

Despite all the amazing things Amarat’s blessing had done for Sara, there was at least one thing they had ruined:

Under-the-desk blowjobs.

She’d tried them with Evie, Ketch, and the Vestas, often at their suggestion, but had saldy been forced to give it up. It had obviously felt great (who didn’t like getting head?), but there’d never once been a risk of getting discovered. No matter how skillfully her partners worked away between her legs, Sara’s voice never wobbled, much less broke in a way that would have revealed the charade. That wasn’t anyone’s fault, of course. With Amarat’s Blessings, Sara was pretty sure she could have maintained an upbeat, bubbly conversation immediately after having both legs shot off by a cannonball. So long as she was conscious, she could act however she wanted.

Thus, Hurlish’s idea. Two birds, one stone. Instead of being the one getting serviced, Sara was kneeling in front of Evie’s legs, her fingers ringing the base of a thick cock. So far, when the other officers had been giving their reports, she’d simply held the base of Evie’s cock, staying perfectly still. Though that wouldn’t have been enough to keep most other people hard, much less on the edge, her wife’s feet were bouncing, calves constantly twitching with the effort required to quiet herself.

So easy.

Following Hurlish’s idea, Sara had finally given Evie a sizeable– okay, no, absolutely massive– cock this time around. It would have been impossible to hide, even if she’d been allowed to keep her pants. Having seen the real thing for herself, Sara had no idea why people back on Earth thought a ten-inch cock was a good idea. If it wasn’t for her Sara’s Blessings, or Evie’s superhuman durability, trying to take it anywhere other than a thoroughly practiced ass would have been a week-ruiner. Longer and thicker than Evie’s own forearm, it reached just far enough that its head would nearly touch Sara’s lips when she had pressed herself to the back of the small space under the desk.

Sara stopped pretending to listen to Blessya’s report. She could review it with her Blessings later. All her focus was spent watching Evie’s cock jump, its thick length bobbing in the air before her lips. She had to be so excruciatingly careful when teasing her wife. Whether it was her natural state, or the fault of constant sex with a Champion of Amarat, Evie had the lightest hair-trigger of anyone Sara had ever met. She could cum from almost anything. It almost went without saying that she could cum from penetrative sex as well as she could clitoral stimulation, but it didn’t stop there. She could also cum from anal, or having her nipples pinched, or even something as simple as getting her ears rubbed too roughly for too long.

The grandest prize of all, however, was her tail. Her wonderful, wonderful tail. Its entire curling length was powerfully erogenous for Evie, and the base was something else entirely. The few inches just before the fur blended into her spine was more sensitive than her clit by a mile. Any time Sara wanted to get Evie off, all she had to do was take a firm grip of that pretty little tail while wrapping her hand around the girl’s throat, keeping her from escaping for the first few seconds, and that would be that. Even if Sara didn’t move an inch, Evie’s frying nerve endings quickly overwhelmed the self-restraint necessary to stop herself from desperately grinding her ass against anything that got hold of her tail. Sara knew that from plenty of personal experience. Once the tail got involved, her wife would be rocketing toward a keening orgasm in thirty seconds or less.

Now that Evie had been given a cock, on top of all those other wonderful pressure points? Sara almost couldn’t believe how sensitive the woman had become. The mere sensation of growing it out from her hips was enough to have her rock-hard and dripping pre-cum. That Sara never allowed her to keep it long enough to grow used to the new set of sensations, much less practice using it, meant Sara had to do little more than give the base of her shaft a few tentative strokes to have her at the quivering edge of incoherency.

Up above, Evie answered one of Blessya’s questions. Sara didn’t know what it was, and she didn’t care. She kept staring at Evie’s cock.

The beautiful thing was something she and Hurlish had been using for weeks. As they jerked Evie off, they kept promising her that if she could last just a few minutes, even once, she’d earn the right to have their mouths on her cock. And they teased her as they did it, telling her allllll about how good it would feel. And, they would huskily promise her, if she somehow managed to last against their mouths, too? Then she’d finally get to see what having sex with a cock was like. That was how she’d earn that privelege. They talked about how badly they wanted her inside of them, how much they were looking forward to it, and that never helped Evie last any longer. Because Sara could keep her hard, “failure” wasn’t even a bad thing. It was just a chance to feel good before a second, third, or fourth try, or however many they could squeeze out of her before her quivering legs gave out.

Evie’s reaction to all the teasing was predictable. If you only counted the time they spent actually her jerking off, without touching any other part of her body, her current personal best was hovering around forty seconds. If they got the other hand involved, even just lightly resting it on her hip, that record was cut in half.

It was adorable.

As Blessya’s report continued on, Sara’s hand began a slow, taunting stroke. Not much. Just that same inch or two she’d already encircled, but now with the barest hint of movement. She leaned forward and parted her lips, letting her warm breath roll over the head of Evie’s cock.

Evie’s left leg spasmed, barely resisting stomping the floor, while her right leg instinctively pushed against the ground, trying to shove herself away from the torturous pleasure. Sara had been ready for that, and was already using her free hand to keep Evie’s chair locked in place.

Thanks to her Blessings, Sara could see everyone in the room as if she were staring straight at them. More than that, even. When it came to interacting with other people, Sara’s sense of vision had been thoroughly outmoded by a passive awareness of every thinking person around her, so long as they were in some way Connected to one another through conversation, interest, or mere awareness.

Which was why she could, from beneath the desk, with her vision filled with Evie’s cock, paint a delectable picture of the room’s occupants in her mind’s eye.

Blessya, of course, was still focused on her report, doing her best to show off how well she’d been following the mandate that every ranking Officer was required to learn how to read. She was laser-focused on each line, every mental faculty turned toward hiding the way she still occasionally had to sound out unfamiliar combinations of letters.

Hurlish, meanwhile, was equally laser-focused, but on Blessya’s ass, which Sara admitted looked pretty damn nice in the tight, leather-patched pants she wore, especially with the touch of afternoon sweat that helped the material cling to her skin. Despite being among the least sexually obsessive of Sara’s little ingroup, second only to Mui in her lack of neediness, Hurlish never missed a chance to appreciate a good looking girl.

But as much as she liked looking at the other two, Evie’s struggle to maintain composure, naturally, was the painting’s centerpiece. It wasn’t as if she was bad at keeping a blank expression. From the age she’d stuttered out her first words all the way until Sara had caught her mother committing high treason, Evie had been bombarded with the lessons of a politically-appointed team of international tutors. She was among the best negotiators Sara had ever met, even now, and she would have made a fool of anyone from Earth. Before she’d gained her current class of “Supplicant Duelist,” she’d had the Class of “Duelist Diplomat,” one which granted her supernaturally-powerful Skills to aid in deceiving others during high-pressure negotiations, an aid no Earthly equivalent could claim.

Unfortunately, all that skill now served as a testament to how overwhelmed she was. Muscles quivered beneath her cheeks as she clenched her jaw until her teeth ached, while the steel pen in her left hand was audibly creaking under the strain of her white-knuckled grip, threatening to dent like cheap tinfoil. Her right hand lay prominently, purposefully flat on the desk, in order to help present an illusion that she was anything approaching the level of relaxed she should have been in this situation.

Blessya was still oblivious. Sara wondered how long that would last. Sadly, Sara herself couldn’t fuck the beautiful woman, what with how absolute she’d been about enforcing the rules about fraternization between ranks. As a general in the Tulian Army, as well as a founder of the Powered Lead, Blessya was off-limits until the woman left the army entirely.

Which was, ultimately, why Hurlish had shown up. Besides the free show, of course. Technically speaking, the big orcish blacksmith wasn’t a member of the Powdered Lead or the Tulian Army. If Blessya actually managed to pick up on the fact Evie was getting jerked off under her desk, Sara felt it would have been far too mean to have worked the virginal officer up to a fever pitch of arousal, only to leave her hanging, citing rules and regulations that Sara was, realistically, already breaking in every meaningful way. No, if Blessya actually managed to spot what was going on, her welcome aid in breaking Evie’s barriers down would earn the pretty little thing a proper railing from Hurlish.

Was jerking Evie off under a desk right in front of a subordinate officer making a mockery of the rules against enlisted soldiers having sex or relationships with those under their command? Sure, without a doubt. But Hurlish had been insistent, and after a bit of cajoling, Sara had ultimately landed on the side of eh, fuck it, this is hot. The rules of fraternization were mostly for the people without a Goddess’s aid in establishing appropriate sexual boundaries.

Besides, Evie was trying to hide her reactions. It was possible, theoretically, that she might succeed. True, if Blessya didn’t notice anything this time around, that only meant she’d get another chance to figure it out sometime soon, so that excuse was flimsy, but… whatever. Jerking Evie off under the desk was proving too much fun for Sara to simply stop.

“I see,” Evie said, probably in response to something important. “And our emergency reserves? How are they faring against the weather?”

Hmm, Sara thought. I don’t like how smoothly she said that.

As Blessya began explaining that they hadn’t yet had any failures in the storage vessels that would require their replacement, Sara began pumping her fist just a bit further. She slid her thumb outward, tracing the thick bulge on the underside of Evie’s cock, exploring the smooth skin at a leisurely pace. Evie’s legs, already bouncing nervously, began to properly shudder, her hips involuntarily twisting in her chair. She didn’t make a noise, not yet, and her face stayed impassive, but the facade had begun to crack.

Sara leaned forward slightly. Hurlish had been the one to tell Sara to make Evie’s cock so large. She hadn’t really understood why, since she loved having Evie in the literal palm of her hand, but facing it for herself, it made more sense. In the tight confines under the desk, the scent of Evie’s thick cock was beginning to fill Sara’s lungs, tempting her forward, dredging up dangerous questions.

Her mind was running away with itself. She knew what noises Evie made while she was getting eaten out, but what about when her cock was getting kissed? How would it taste when Sara licked her lips afterwards, savoring the flavor of bare skin that lingered behind, or, even better, if she opened her mouth just a touch, letting her wet tongue out to run along the bare, salty flesh?

Evie’s foot collided with Sara’s ribs, making a dull whump. It didn’t hurt, but it brought her back to the present. Blessya had finished reading off her report, folding it away in a back pocket, so she was now actually looking at Evie as they spoke. It seemed like the near-hour of gentle teasing had Evie thinking Sara might have intended to take it easy from the start.

Sara leaned closer. A dewdrop of precum had begun to bead at the tip of Evie’s cock. Not enough to roll down and away, but enough to be visible. To be tempting. Sara moved forward, sticking her tongue out, holding it a fraction of an inch from Evie’s skin.

“...at this rate, I doubt we’ll need to acquire new shipments of emcotton for the duration of our contract,” Blessya summarized, nodding slightly, as if to assure herself she hadn’t said anything incorrect.

Evie hummed noncommittally. “I still want to establish a stable means of transport. If we are forced to utilize our reserves, I want to have a plan in place-”

Sara pressed forward. Just a little tap, a glancing blow. She licked up the droplet of precum with a flat tongue, running from the underside of Evie’s massive cockhead to the top, cleaning it of the stain. Hardly cheating on the handjob rules if she was avoiding a mess, right?

The steel fountain pen in Evie’s left hand was slammed flat onto her desk with a clatting boom, just before the metal walls would have violently burst, spraying ink across the day’s work. Both of Evie’s palms were pressed flat to the desk, her expression just as blank as before, but her words hitching up an octave.

“-p-place to… to replenish, if we need to,” Evie all but gasped. Sara’s tongue fled, but she sped up the pumping of her hand. “We need to-” Evie tried to kick her again, but her legs were jello. Sara barely felt it. “To prepare for the eventuality,” she managed to squeeze out. “Even if it is just a working plan. Get me a plan on paper, if you would. As a… report. So that we may implement it rapidly, if it becomes necessary.”

Blessya was staring at Evie, wide-eyed. Sara was half bemused, half disappointed, to see that the young officer was taking Evie’s response as a sign of anger, not a particularly enticing type of distraction.

“I understand, ma’am!” She said, nodding sharply. “I’ll have it ready as soon as possible. Before we move out of Ta-Pet tomorrow, I hope.”

“G-good,” Evie said. “You are d-dismissed.”

Blessya started to salute, a gesture Evie was most certainly not ready to return, but was stopped by a new voice.

“Actually, I got a question for you, Blessya,” Hurlish announced, an almost cruel enjoyment of the situation hidden behind her usual rumbling cadence. “I was going to go by and ask later today, but since you’re already here? Unless you’ve got something to do after this?”

Blessya didn’t. Sara had checked and double-checked that.

“Of course not, ma’am,” Blessya said, turning to address Hurlish. The moment she was out of Blessya’s line of sight, Evie’s head dropped, her lips forming the shapes of hidden, half-furious curses.

“Oh, I’m not a ma’am,” Hurlish said, waving it away. “Not when I’m out of my smithy, anyway. I was just wanting to ask you and the other Armorers how the new cryslocks have been treating the troops, what kinda problems you’ve run into. There’s been a lot of arguments back in Tulian about how best to make ‘em, and I wanted someone with field experience to weigh in.”

Behind Blessya’s back, Evie shot Hurlish the foulest glare she could manage. It wasn’t much, what with the way she’d taken the unobserved moment to free up her locked limbs, allowing her entire body to tremble in place like it had been trying to do for the last several minutes.

For Blessya, that was a conversation that was refreshingly easy to dive into. She began to happily chat about the Powdered Lead’s cryslock rifles, focusing on their performance in the varied conditions the Empire had exposed them to. She clearly had a lot to say, even without having prepared a proper report.

Sara didn’t waste Blessya’s distraction. Evie’s cock was throbbing before her, all ten inches of it, and it really hadn’t been given a fair treatment. Such a pretty part of her wife deserved a more tender sort of attention.

Sara loosened her grip on the base of Evie’s cock, not to release it, but to give her the freedom to let her hand glide forward, sliding over the throbbing heat at a loving, patient pace. Even with her Blessings, it was getting hard to pay attention to anything else. It was just so… nice. Something that big wouldn’t have been nearly so lovely in her old life. Back there, it would have been intimidating. Hot, probably, and something she was interested in, but it was big enough to have her worrying.

That was before she could just… take it. Because she could, now. Technically, even her old body had been physically capable of swallowing something like the cock in front of her, but it would have taken effort. Practice, probably, and a whole lot of it.

Not anymore. If Sara really wanted to, she knew she could shove it down her throat until her nose was buried in the soft skin of Evie’s pelvis. Hell, If she wanted to, she wouldn’t even have to gag.

But why would I want that? Sara thought, slowing her stroke slightly, along the middle of Evie’s shaft. It throbbed against her palm, hot to the touch. She’d always loved watching Evie choke on her cock, had basked in the feeling of her wife’s convulsing throat. It only seemed fair to keep her own gag reflex, if only to return the favor. Sara touched her own throat, rubbing it with a palm. She didn’t like choking on cock. Her old partners had tried that sometimes, and she’d always put a stop to it right away. All it did was hurt her throat.

But with Evie’s… Sara had sucked more dicks than she could count since coming here. None of them had been like this. Cocks like this just didn’t happen naturally, not even on orcs. This beauty was unnatural, made manifest by her own desires.

Evie’s desires, she corrected herself. And Hurlish’s. She wanted to see what Evie would look like with a giant cock. This thing’s too…

Sara shook her head, pulling her hand off her throat. Staying in the cramped space under the desk was starting to seem like a mistake. Her thoughts were going fuzzy, and she felt dizzy, as if the air was too thick, even though there was no way that was true. There was more than enough circulation to get rid of stale breath.

Just… not enough to get rid of Evie’s cock. She could smell it. The taste of precum was still on her tongue, because she’d never swallowed it. She’d been staring at that cock for almost an hour. Hells, she’d been holding it for that long. Touching it, caressing it. All without doing anything else.

Sara found herself leaning forward, licking her lips. She was so wet. She’d tried not to think about it, because this whole show was all about Evie, but god was she soaked. She could feel it on her thighs, a cool slickness coating the interior of her leather pants.

Her slow stroke was finally reaching the end of Evie’s cock. She stopped just before the edge of her head, avoiding the sensitive tip. Evie wouldn’t last a second if she touched that. The moment Sara’s fingers brushed it, her control would fail her, cute little cries of ecstasy spilling from her throat as she humped desperately forward, spraying her cum all over Sara’s face, making a mess of them both as she squirmed in her seat, mewling pitifully…

With an incredible effort, Sara forced her hand back down, keeping her glacial handjob to the shaft alone. She briefly considered going down even further, to cup her balls with her other hand, or maybe even to nibble at the skin, but had to reject it.

Evie was at the razor edge of climax now. Hurlish was looking over Blessya’s head, wearing a shit-eating grin as she locked eyes with Evie. The feline was breathing hard, audibly now, her chest rising and falling with every breath. Her claws had popped out of her fingertips to impale the desk in a final bid to hold herself still, and even that was failing, as evidenced by the inch of scored wood that they’d scratched into the desk. Even those lines had etched a wobbling, unsteady course. There was no part of Evie’s body that wasn’t shivering right now. Deep in her throat, audible only to Sara thanks to her Blessings, an adorable whine had begun to build.

“Thanks for the advice,” Hurlish said to Blessya. “And sorry to take up your time. I’ll let the folks back in the capital know what y’all have been dealing with out here. No need to make a report or anything.”

“I appreciate it,” Blessya said, polite as always, apparently oblivious to the fact that there was nothing in the discussion that would have required a report in the first place. “Will that be all, Commander-”

Blessya’s question choked off as she turned around to face Evie once more.

Sara’s wife was a fighter. A real soldier, one who didn’t back down from a challenge. But some battles, whether you were out-Leveled or outnumbered, couldn’t be won through sheer willpower alone.

It turned out that an hour-long handjob from a Champion of Amarat was one of those battles.

Evie was a wreck. Sweat had started to pour down her brow from the moment Sara’s handjob had started exploring the whole of her cock, matting loose strands of hair to her head. Her mouth hung open, panting as if she’d just sprinted to the finish of a marathon, and her nipples, if Blessya dared look at her breasts, were poking prominently through even the thicker material of her shirt. Her arms shook and shivered as if she’d been submerged in ice water, her knuckles white as they strained with the effort required to keep her hands on the desk.

“Are you alright, ma’am?” Blessya asked, concern furrowing her brow.

Oh, come the fuck on! Sara raged in her mind. She’s about to cum harder than you ever have in your life, and you’re asking if she’s ALRIGHT?

“Fuh-f-fine,” Evie gasped out.

“You don’t look it, ma’am,” Blessya said respectfully, approaching the desk as she reached belt pouch. “Those insect-borne illnesses General Brown has been telling us about have been a doozy. Seen a lot of sick fellas that didn’t want to admit it, but there’s nothin’ wrong with it. Here, you can have my healing potion.”

“N-n-no,” Evie whimpered. “I will… w-will… take my own-!”

As the last word fell from her lips, Sara gave in. She leaned forward, nuzzling her cheek against Evie’s cock, rubbing at it like Mui did to scentmark her tits when he was too lost in the afterglow of orgasm to be embarrassed about what he was doing. Sara felt her own shiver run through her as the heat of the cock pulsed into her cheek, precum rubbing against her ear, smearing into her hair.

A wooden desk, no matter how well-made, could only take so much. The dark wood under Evie’s fingers shattered with a loud CRACK, splinters flying free. Her hips began to thrust against Sara’s cheek, her cock jumping an entire inch upward every time her pounding pulse reached its way down south, working to smear more of her dribbling precum along the side of Sara’s head.

Much like the wooden desk, the innocent naivety of a rural-born virgin could only take so much before failing. Sickness didn’t make someone ball their fists so hard they turned aged hardwood into shrapnel, and it certainly didn’t make someone whine in the way Evie did in that moment, with a pitiful mewl squeezing its way out of her throat, just loud enough to be heard by all present. Blessya’s face reddened and she took a step back, glancing toward the door. She swallowed several times in rapid succession before speaking.

“Oh. Well then, ma’am. I’m, uh, sorry about that… sickness? I hope you feel better?” Her stammering made her blush even worse, turning her face almost as red as her hair. “I-I understand, of course! I’ve heard those illnesses can come on ya quick.”

Hurlish hid an explosive laugh in the crook of her elbow, taking several steps away as she pounded her chest.

“Bless ya,” Blessya reflexively said, without even looking. She sketched a shaky salute to Evie. “Well. I’ll be… I’m dismissed?”

Breathlessly, eyes squeezed shut, Evie nodded, flicking a finger to send Blessya out of the room. The young officer all but sprinted away as she fled, latching the door shut behind her.

Hurlish locked the door behind her, waited a moment to make sure Blessya was out of earshot, then exploded into laughter.

“Gods be damned, did you see the look on her face?”

Evie, of course, couldn’t respond. She’d dropped her head to the desk, her entire body racked with shudders.

“I mean, she turned so red, I thought she was gonna pass out!” Hurlish continued. “Here, Sara, come on out.”

Reluctantly– no, finally, she corrected herself– Sara released Evie’s cock, scooting to the side. Her back popped as she emerged from underneath the desk, coming into view.

“You know what the craziest thing is?” Sara asked. “She didn’t even realize what was going on?”

Hurlish laughed again, louder. “You sure? Did you see how she looked?”

“If she’d figured it out, I would’ve told you,” Sara said, making an oblique reference to their plan, in case Evie still had enough of her faculties left to remember what they were saying later. “No, the funniest part is, she thought she was the one being a pervert.”

“What? How?”

“She couldn’t help but get horny over how Evie looked, but she really did think she was getting sick. Blessya was beating herself for thinking dirty, dirty thoughts about her commanding officer, just because she saw her sick and sweaty.”

At that, Hurlish’s laughter grew. She was still laughing as she thumped her way across the office to join Sara and Evie’s behind the desk. Evie had pushed her chair away, leaning back, her precum-smeared cock pointing straight up into the air, bouncing with every involuntary thrust of her hips. When she wasn’t humping the air, its thick underside fell to rest against the cool wood, dripping a puddle of clear fluid onto the varnished wood.

“Don’t know any kind of sickness that makes a girl look like that,” Hurlish joked, dropping into the empty chair beside Evie, “but I’d sure like to find a couple of those test-tube things full of the stuff. Makes for a great show.”

“I’ll let you know if I find any,” Sara said. She started to gather herself up to stand, stretching out to join Hurlish, but was surprised to find her knees slamming back into the floor, a calloused hand wrapped around the back of her neck.

“Where are you going?” Hurlish asked, a smile still on her lips. “You know the rules. Made ‘em yourself. If Evie lasts five minutes on a handjob, she gets to feel your lips.”

Sara rolled her eyes, trying to force her way back to her feet. “Yeah, but that’s only once we really start going. I only started when Blessya was in the room. I was just teasing her until then.”

Unsurprisingly, Sara couldn’t do anything against Hurlish’s strength. She was helpless as a kitten in her wife’s grip. Hurlish’s grin widened. “You must have not been paying attention. That was plenty more than five minutes.”

Sara frowned. “No way. That report she gave was tiny. Three minutes, tops.”

“Yeah. Until I started talking to her.”

Sara blinked. She… hadn’t thought of that. She’d been entirely focused on Evie by then, and hadn’t really noticed the time passing. Hurlish was right, though.

Sara licked her lips, looking at Evie’s cock. Their wife’s eyes had cracked upon, a dazed sense of surprise flitting across her face. Not entirely gone, then. Her massive cock was still surging with visible arousal.

“Well…” Sara said, hesitating. “We’ll have to make it sma–”

Hurlish’s fingers closed around her throat, cutting off her air. Sara’s mouth opened and closed in silent shock, instinctively trying to claw at the woman’s grip, but against even a single one of Hurlish’s hands, she could do nothing save twist in place.

Holding Sara’s throat with one hand, Hurlish leaned forward, pulling open a drawer on the desk. To the surprise of Evie and Sara both, the Feline’s collar lay atop the pile of blank papers there, its padlock completed by the artful engraving of the all-capital letters of the word WHORE.

Evie was too lost in arousal to fully understand what was going on, but she reacted to the sight of her collar like a kitten seeing a jar of catnip pulled out of the pantry. Her back arched as her head tilted back, presenting her neck to Hurlish.

The collar snapped into place with an audible click. A full-body shudder of delight ran through Evie as the enchanted runes flared to life.

Hurlish didn’t give her a second to come down from the high. She spun Evie’s chair around, turning her to face Sara, then thrust Sara forward, until her lips were pressed against Evie’s cock. It was so hot. Sara still couldn’t breath, yet she wasn’t sure if the dizziness running through her mind had anything to do with a lack of oxygen.

“Open your mouth, Sara.”

She considered fighting the order. She wanted to have more agency in this. Evie was always so much fun to tease, to watch slowly fall apart. Sara knew Hurlish didn’t have the patience for that.

But… Evie’s precum was pressing against her lips. It was salty, but not in the way that cum usually was. It reminded Sara of the night in the brothel, when she’d been eating her own climax out of Evie. Not the same level of decadently powerful flavor, but closer than she’d expected. An involuntary shiver went through her body, one which had her mouth opening as she, despite herself, tried to moan. She couldn’t, not with Hurlish still choking her, but the opportunity wasn’t missed. Hurlish pressed her forward, forcing the tip of Evie’s cock into her mouth.

“Kitty?” Hurlish said. “Don’t cum.”

Evie’s building cry turned into a wail of dismay as her collar flashed, pressing the command into her skin. Her hips bucked helplessly, trying to take back the climax that had just been stolen from her.

Meanwhile, Sara’s lungs were starting to burn. She should have been able to last longer, but she hadn’t taken a deep breath before Hurlish started choking her, and the sight of a beautiful woman writhing above her had her body wanting to pant heavily. As the pressure in her chest mounted, she patted at Hurlish’s wrist.

“Hm? You need a breath?”

Sara tapped more urgently. Gray was beginning to tinge the edges of her vision. Evie was looking down at her, whimpering.

Gods, what a sight.

“If I let go, you’re gonna keep her in your mouth. Understand me?”

Sara nodded. It wasn’t like she had a choice.

Hurlish’s fingers relaxed. Sara drew in an explosive breath, chest heaving, but was careful to keep herself breathing only through her nose, her mouth occupied by the head of Evie’s massive cock.

“Good girl,” Hurlish hummed. Her hand was still wrapped around Sara’s throat. She’d relaxed enough to let her breathe, but that was it. She kept a possessive grip on her. If she didn’t take a potion, Sara knew tomorrow would see her throat sporting a massive bruise.

She did her best to ignore the way the thought had her thighs pressing together.

“Well?” Hurlish hummed. “Get to work. She earned a reward.”

Sara shot Hurlish a glare. This wasn’t part of the plan. Evie was supposed to keep getting teased over and over again, however many times it took for her to finally break, begging them for release. The whole point was forcing their wife to realize she really did value her own pleasure, that she wasn't only a toy to be used in private, and that it wasn’t the end of the world if some people saw her snuggling up to her wives.

That wasn’t what this was going to achieve. Sure, it was hot, but it wasn’t what they’d planned. After a moment’s consideration, Sara pulled back off of Evie’s cock with a wet pop, turning towards Hurlish.

“There. Now that she’s gotten a taste-”

Hurlish’s fingers wrapped around Sara’s jaw, pulling her mouth open. Sara had just enough time to blink in surprise before her head was wrenched around and slammed forward, thick cock shoving past her lips and down into her throat, her nose crushed into the soft skin of Evie’s pelvis in a flash.

Evie reacted with a wordless cry, instincts driving her hips up into Sara’s face, while Sara herself sputtered and choked, tears beading the corners of her eyes. Evie kept thrusting into her, stirring the massive cock around in her throat, making it impossible for her to get used to the intrusion. Sara felt her convulsing around the cock, gagging hard. Even if she’d thought to use her Blessings to remove her gag reflex, she hadn’t had time for the thought to form.

Gods, she was so full. It felt like she was wrapped around Evie, her body stretched past the point of reason. There was a dull ache that began at her jaw and continued all the way down her throat, but it was a distant thing. She could feel Evie’s cock throb, even more precum dripping directly almost straight into Sara’s stomach. With a length like Evie’s, even the slick, watery fluid was more than most orgasms managed.

Somehow, Sara realized, despite the fact that the head of Evie’s cock was somewhere beneath her collarbone, she could still taste the clear fluid. Salty and sweet. Not filling, but still good. An appetizer that did nothing to sate the hunger it inspired.

“Sorry, what was that?” Hurlish asked. “I didn’t catch it. You’ll have to tell me later.”

Sara was pulled back, back, back, further than she’d ever slid off a cock before, and the sensation of such a thick piece of meat emptying her throat set off her gag reflex again, turning the water beading at the corners of her eyes to full drops, rolling down her face.

“Huh-hu-Hurlish,” Evie groaned, “She’s, ah, ch-choking.”

“Sure is.”

Sara felt almost touched that Evie, despite having ten inches of cock buried in a squeezing throat, had managed to protest on her behalf. It didn’t matter, though. The moment before she was pulled far enough back to have caught a breath, when the tip of Evie’s cock was just barely entering her throat, Sara was shoved forward again. Hard.

Her body spasmed as she was filled again. Hot, throbbing cock, kept supernaturally suspended at the precipice of climax, went plowing down her throat. Her hands opened and closed on nothing, her legs quaking as they tried to brace against Hurlish’s inexorable strength.

How fucking strong IS she? Sara thought incredulously. For those with Classes based on combat, strength only grew so far. In a fight, raw power was often secondary to reaction speed, awareness, and a dozen other things. Sara had met plenty of elite Imperial Warriors who were stronger than her, but never by this much. In practice bouts or drunken arm wrestling matches, she could at least struggle against them, force them to put in some kind of effort to overpower her.

Not Hurlish. Her every straining muscle didn’t even register the 17th-Level Weaponsmith’s interest. Sara may as well have not even been trying. If she just gave up and let Hurlish use her face to fuck Evie, nothing would have changed.

“There we go,” Hurlish purred. “Good girl. Here, take a breath.”

Sara’s nostrils flared as Hurlish finally pulled her far enough back to let her breathe, though, of course, not enough to have Evie’s cock out of her mouth. Dizzy for a dozen different reasons, it took her a moment to realize why Hurlish had praised her. She really had relaxed her whole body, letting herself be used.

At that realization, a familiar, age-old contrarian streak welled up within Sara. The ingrained urge to fight rebel against orders, even for something like this. She stiffened her arms again, preparing to resist the next time she was shoved down.

Hurlish sighed. “See, this is what I’m talking about. This would go so much easier if you just enjoyed yourself.”

Before Sara could think of a response, not that she could have spoken it aloud, she found herself being lifted through the air. She gasped in surprise, the noise turned to an awkward, wet squelch by the cock in her mouth, before she felt her hips get dropped onto Hurlish’s lap. She didn’t have a second to register that fact before she was assaulted by a new sensation, that of her leather pants being jerked down, exposing her ass to the open air.

“Damn, you’re wet.” A thick, calloused finger swiped up Sara’s slit, making her squirm as she swallowed her moan. “Funny how that works. I bet if I let you talk right now, you’d say you didn’t want to be doing this. But look at this.”

Sara was forced down onto Evie’s cock in the same moment that one of Hurlish’s long fingers shoved into her core, curling upward in just the right way to chase the burning bloom of pleasure that rolled out of her hips. Hurlish’s fingers were already bigger than most dicks, and she was devastatingly skilled with them. Sara couldn’t help but grind her ass backward while Evie filled her throat, the humming buzz of her moan vibrating the entire length of the thick cock.

Hurlish pulled Sara back, freeing her from the searing heat of Evie’s cock. In the same motion, she drew her finger out of Sara’s core, ignoring the way her pussy feverishly clenched down on it, trying to keep it inside.

Two women whined in disappointment when Hurlish stopped, leaving them both with just a tip for their satisfaction.

Hurlish chuckled. “Gods, I love that sound.”

Sara already knew what this game was. She knew what Hurlish wanted from her. Even with her head spinning, even after being choked on cock, even after spending an hour losing her fucking mind that she couldn’t do anything more than tease Evie, she knew what Hurlish wanted from her.

She tried to hold back. Hurlish’s fingers were teasing at the lips of her pussy, rubbing side to side. Sara knew that there was a way out of this, somewhere, that she could turn the tables.

But she was so empty. Her pussy, obviously, so wet it was running down her thighs, but her throat, too, they were both empty. She’d never been filled like she had a few moments ago. Yes, she’d felt what it was like to get it from ahead and behind, but not by so much, never by more cock than she could have dreamed of, by dexterous fingers so long they felt like they were tickling her goddamn brain. That was something wholly new, and she wanted– needed– more.

Sara pushed forward, against Hurlish’s hand. She pressed her tongue out, slipping it past her lips, coating the underside of Evie’s thick shaft. Her tongue kept going, pink smoke briefly hiding its surface as it grew and grew, becoming serpentine in the way it curled around Evie’s cock, letting her taste as much of it as she could.

Hurlish grinned, smug pride rolling off her in waves. She released her grip on Sara’s throat, unlatching one finger at a time.

Sara kept going forward. Letting her mouth be filled with cock, until the thick head was bumping against her throat, making her gag, then even further, filling her body and mind with the heady taste of Evie’s saliva-coated skin.

Just as she’d expected, Hurlish rewarded her. Sara’s hips bucked in her wife’s lap as that thick finger slid back into her, spreading her open. The hand that had been on Sara’s throat drifted under her hips, applying pressure to her clit.

Sara whined. It was a sound drowned by Evie’s painting gasps, by her own gagging, but Hurlish heard it anyway.

“Good girl,” she purred. “There we go. Deeper. Come on. Make her love it.”

It burned. Without someone forcing her down, when she was taking it slow, Sara felt her throat fighting the intrusion even more than usual.

But it burned so good. It was like sucking Mui’s cock, when she gave herself the catfolk sense of smell required to become intoxicated by his pheromones, but instead of her nose, it was all along her tongue. The taste of Evie’s precum was amazing. She wanted more of it.

Sara reached the base of Evie’s cock almost without realizing it. The moment she couldn’t go forward, she began pulling back, luxuriating in the feeling of her stretched throat closing around the empty space left behind.

Hurlish drew her finger back out as she went. Sara couldn’t stand it. Even before she had retreated enough to steal a breath, she was throwing herself back down, even faster than before, earning Hurlish’s finger inside her as soon as possible.

“Look at her,” Hurlish whispered, speaking to Evie. “She loves it, doesn’t she?”

Evie, unable to cum and vibrating like an unbalanced washing machine, managed to stare down at Sara.

Sara wasn’t looking back. Her eyes were closed, all her focus turned inward. It tasted so fucking good. Evie’s cock. It was getting better by the minute. She couldn’t decide if she loved the sweat of her skin more than the saliva-mixed precum, or if the sensation of being stretched out was its own reward. She was beginning to realize that Evie’s precum, delicious as it was, couldn’t be all there was. That same taste from before, from the brothel, that intoxicating flavor she could never give a name to, was hiding from her. If she could get Evie to cum, maybe that would be it.

Sara started bobbing her head properly. She was gagging, her throat hurt, she was constantly on the edge of passing out from lack of breath, but none of it mattered. A small, shivering hand landed on her head, cupping her chin, but she barely felt it. She kept licking and sucking, barely conscious of the way she was shoving her pussy back into Hurlish’s probing fingers.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” Hurlish asked.

Evie and Sara both groaned insensibly.

“Sara. Grow a tail.”

Her eyes fluttered. She didn’t stop bobbing her head– she didn’t think she could if she’d wanted to– but made a little noise of protest.

“I won’t let you taste it if you don’t do it.”

The last vestiges of Sara’s self-confidence rebelled. She loved Evie’s tail because it was cute, because it was so sensitive, because it was part of her, but… Sara growing her own tail? That was something else. That was something annoying e-girls pretended to do back on earth, wearing paw gloves and making stupid faces for attention on TikTok. Sara had never done anything like that. Anytime someone had asked her for something like that, she’d shot them down hard. She might bottom for the right person, but she definitely didn’t wear tails, or make dumb faces, or play along with any of that other weeaboo crap. Even if it was hot, it was demeaning, downright insulting.

That was… that was too far. It was like wearing a tail plug, but even worse. More embarrassing. She just couldn’t. Even if Hurlish told her to. Sara shook her head.

Hurlish sighed. Her hand left Sara’s clit, making her groan in frustration, going to the same desk drawer that she’d dragged Evie’s collar out of. After a bit of fumbling, she pulled out…

Sara’s eyes widened.

A second collar.

They had plenty of them lying around, of course. With Garen’s spell, they’d broken dozens of them. Sara didn’t know why she was surprised Hurlish could have brought two.

With a magical click, the collar fell into place. Sara felt the old familiar rush of warmth spread through her body, making her shiver, but this time the collaring experience was even more extreme. Evie’s cock was so thick that she could feel it bulging her throat out, rubbing against the iron band around Sara’s throat. It made it impossible to ignore just how large it was, just how fucking full Sara was.

Hurlish didn’t waste any time.

“Grow a tail.”

Sara whined, fighting. The broken collars could be resisted. That was part of Garen’s spell: that they weren’t just broken, but couldn’t ever be fixed. If someone truly fought an order, the collar would snap open, forced away from their body.

Sara fought the order. She really did. She didn’t want to look like a needy little cat. She didn’t want to have that tail curling out of her back, just like she’d seen so many times on Evie. She didn’t want the uncontrollable limb to show what she was really thinking, fighting her impulses, giving away her feelings just like it had a million different times for Evie.

Yet the collar didn’t fall away.

A low, long groan fell from Sara’s lips as she felt her body begin to shift, molten lava pooling at the base of her spine. Her skin twisted and grew, magical energies creating shifting, and stretching out entirely new parts of herself as it rearranged her body. Sara had expected to feel it only in the tail itself, but the actual sensation spread all along her lower back, muscle groups pooling with that same burning energy that was rolling up into the air. She groaned as the magic worked its way through her, her pussy clenching even harder around Hurlish. The mere feeling of it all was almost, almost enough to finish her off, but before she could reach that final peak, the process was done.

Pink energies faded, revealing a long, sinuous tail, coated in fur as raven-black as her hair. The limb was incredibly long, proportionally longer than Evie’s, thicker even than Mui’s, more than enough to brush the ground if she had been standing.

But Sara knew enough about how Evie’s tail worked to know it wasn’t going to stay limp enough to fall on the floor. She had a brief flicker of hope that her Blessings would give her greater control of it than Evie possessed, or that she’d subconsciously decided to grow a catfolk’s tail instead of a Feline’s, but that dream didn’t last a single second.

Without any input at all from herself, Sara’s tail lunged to wrap itself around Hurlish’s left bicep, squeezing it with all the strength it had, sliding up and down, sensually caressing her.

Hurlish laughed while Sara moaned. Even that was taking her apart. The mere feeling of her tail rubbing against Hurlish’s skin felt like a tongue running along her labia, not enough to get her off, but more than enough to have her begging for more.

“Why are you stopping?” Hurlish asked. “Come on. You want me to play with your new toy, don’t you? You gotta keep going for that.”

It was only then that Sara realized that she’d frozen with Evie’s cock lodged halfway down her throat. The feline was giving tiny little pumps of her hips, unable to stop herself from seeking the pleasure that couldn’t bring her over the edge, but she wasn’t achieving much with them.

Sara’s face was burning. Her tail was practically fucking molesting Hurlish’s muscles, moving from biceps to forearms, down onto her stomach, tracing every hard line on the woman’s body. For the first time since Sara had come to this world, she couldn’t hide what she was thinking. She fucking loved Hurlish’s body, and her tail was proving it. It couldn’t stop rubbing against Hurlish’s breasts, her abs, even reaching up to curl around her tusks, the last of which had the orc growling in satisfaction.

And it all felt so good to do. Gods, how did Evie even fucking function with this thing? She constantly had it wrapping around Sara’s arms and legs during important meetings, for god’s sake! It was no wonder she was so goddamn horny all the time.

“If you don’t start moving again,” Hurlish warned, pressing her hand to the back of Sara’s head, “I’m gonna start moving for you. Get to work.”

Without much of a choice, Sara obediently dove back down. She was getting more used to Evie’s girth. She reached the bottom quickly, holding herself there for a moment, slipping her long tongue out to wrap around Evie’s balls, wetting them with saliva, then pulled back, groaning as she felt the bulge in her throat press against her collar. Evie’s whine reached a new octave, her cock squeezed even tighter on account of the iron band around Sara’s neck.

Hurlish pulled her fingers from Sara’s sopping pussy, making her groan with disappointment, but only for as long as it took for her hand to land on Sara’s lower back.

Right above her tail.

The rebellious limb spasmed in excitement, abandoning its spot between Hurlish’s breasts to wrap around the woman’s wrist, sliding up and down like it was determined to make up for all the begging Sara was too proud to suffer through.

“See?” Hurlish drawled, turning her hand around to rub her thumb along the fur of Sara’s tail. Sara’s back arched, sparks dancing up her spine as her ass involuntarily shoved itself into the touch. “Isn’t it better when you have to be honest during sex?”

Sara groaned. She couldn’t do anything else. Her entire lower half was melting into molten pleasure, whatever capacity for speech her mind had left stolen away by the cock stuffing her throat full. Hurlish released her head, trusting her to keep bobbing her head on Evie’s cock, and brought her other hand back to Sara’s ass, giving it a playful smack.

“Gods, you look good like this. Making a fucking mess of my pants, though. You two get wetter than any other whores I’ve ever seen.”

Sara’s instinctive protest, that Evie was the only one wearing a collar that said whore on it, couldn’t be voiced. Not without taking the cock out of her mouth long enough to talk, and she couldn’t stomach the thought.

Hurlish’s hand wrapped around Sara’s tail, sliding downward, moving toward the base of her tail. The friction of it was building a static charge in Sara’s body, a crackling energy that was pumping out her tail and shooting up into her back, into her hips, down her legs.

“Oh, yeah. Almost forgot. Sara? You can’t cum until Evie does.”

Before Sara could react to that absurd order, Hurlish shoved two fingers into her sopping cunt and, at the same instant, her curled fist dropped down, squeezing the base of Sara’s tail.

If she hadn’t been stuffed with ten inches of Evie’s throbbing cock, the entire estate would have heard Sara’s cry.

It was so much. Her cunt was stretched almost painfully far, two of Hurlish’s thick fingers more than enough for anyone, but for once, they were almost forgotten in lieu of what she felt elsewhere.

That fucking tail.

The pressure she felt emanating from the base of her spine reminded her of the few times she’d been filled to the brim, toys or cocks in her ass and pussy at the same time, but the sensation was radiating through her body like a bonfire’s heat, liquid delight pumping its way up her back, shooting down her thighs, leaving her a quivering, immobile mess.

Hurlish began to pump her fingers. In and out, in and out, curling right at the deepest point, sending Sara’s ass jumping up into the air, meeting her fist where it was massaging her tail. She wasn’t even moaning. She was whimpering. It was like the entire back half of her body was being massaged by a hundred hands, every muscle unwinding a thousand knots she’d never known she had.

She should have cum on the spot. The sudden attack should’ve sent her sailing through a mind-blowing orgasm, leaving her a quivering, mewling mess, but the collar wouldn’t let her. Every time she tried to throw herself over the edge of climax, Hurlish’s order echoed in her head, dragging her back from blissful oblivion.

Not until Evie cums.

Sara was too far gone to think it through. She didn’t think of what she should be doing. She didn’t care that it literally wasn’t possible to make Evie cum right now, that no matter what she did or how well she did it, only Hurlish could allow them to cum.

She threw herself at the cock in front of her anyway. She let her tongue fall limply out of her mouth, grinding up and down Evie’s shaft every time she pulled her throat back, keeping her length in a slippery, squeezing embrace the entire time. Evie was breathless above her, twisting this way and that like she was in pain, but making the most amazing gasps, beautiful moans of pleasure that only drove Sara deeper onto her cock, chasing more of her precum, more of Hurlish’s fingers, and more, more, more of that feeling at her spine.

Her sense of time was absorbed into the haze of lust, along with a dozen other parts of her better self. The only thing she could think of was Evie’s cock, the only thing she could feel was the grind of her wife’s hands in her pussy, against her tail.

Sara lost herself in the moment. She bobbed on Evie’s cock, throwing her head up and down, finally turning off her gag reflex in order to move as fast as possible. She wrapped her arms around Evie’s waist, dragging her into every thrust. She couldn’t do anything else. She didn’t want to do anything else.

“H-h-hhhh,” Evie gasped. “Hh-Hurlish… p-p-please…”

“What do you want, Kitty?” She asked.

Evie closed her eyes, steeling herself as much as her trembling body would allow. “N-need to… to…!”

“Yeah?”

Evie whined. “Cum! P-please, please, please, let me cum!”

Hurlish’s brief hesitation, a casual moment of contemplation as the wet noises of her fingers pounding into Sara’s pussy filled the air, was the longest moment of Sara’s life.

“Alright. You can cum whenever you want.”

Evie’s hands shot forward faster than the eye could see, landing on the sides of Sara’s head. She began to pump forward, dragging Sara to the base of her cock, holding her there.

Sara did her best to smile up at her, drunk on cock.

Evie’s cock throbbed once. Twice.

Hurlish’s hand slammed down, knuckles digging into the muscles at the base of Sara’s tail, and at the same moment she buried her fingers into Sara’s pussy as far as they could go, curling upward, spreading her open.

Sara fell to pieces. Her climax was utterly silent, her every muscle frozen, so overwhelmed that even her lungs lost the ability to function.

And then Sara tasted it.

Thick, stringy ropes of cum began spilling down Sara’s throat, accompanied by a wailing cry of relief from Evie. She kept thrusting forward, holding Sara in place as she came, and that was it.

Sara had no idea what happened next. Even her Blessings failed her, replaced by heavenly white static, her mind shattering like a thousand stained glass windows. The only thing she would remember later was Hurlish’s voice, whispering huskily.

“Good girl. That’s a good girl. Come on. Let it out. Swallow it all. I know you can. You’re such a good girl for me, aren’t you? So good. There you go.”

Fingers began to run through her scalp. Scratching and petting. She leant into them.

“Don’t worry about it, alright? Just lay down. It’s alright. Just take a nap for me, alright? You earned it. There you go.”

The sensation of Evie’s cock sliding out of her throat had another aftershock of climax rolling through Sara’s body. A moment later, warmth was surrounding her on all sides. The hand kept stroking through her hair.

“Mm. That’s good. Just lay back, alright? I’ll wake you up in a bit. Let it all go. Just for a little bit.”

That was the last thing Sara remembered.

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