Coooould I suggest Mckay going off birth control? Maybe she was on it for health reasons or maybe just for bc's sake. Whatever the reason, her sex drive after going off the pill is THROUGH the ROOF. I can see her having a LOT of trouble keeping focused and keeping her hands to herself during work. I can also see reader being exhausted at work because she's trying to keep up with Cassie's sex drive 😂 not that she should complain of course, it's a blessing to be fucked by Cassie as much as physically possible.
reminded me of vicio mío
cassie was being a saint today. really. she could’ve fucked you at least twice today but she didn’t. not during lunch nor even dragged you in the back of her 85 BMW.
it was a slow day which never happened, it was honestly rude of you not to make the best of it and just take her like you always do. it would only take her less than ten minutes to make you cum. come on, she deserved a reward already.
and specially today because without a steady stream of trauma patients to distract her, her pussy was throbbing from the memories of you last night.
and you thought you were the one initiating things too often.
you knew she was struggling. you knew that being off the pill had turned her insatiable. it was like she was a horny teenager again, making up for every single year she spent alone.
come to the bathroom in five?🙏🫠 she texted. i’ll make it fast
you laughed at the emojis under your breath, “oh, she’s old.”
no way, cassie. wait till we get home. you kept me up until 3am last night.
you see her sighing across the room, putting her phone down after al-hashimi sent her with a sprained ankle. you weren't losing your job for fulfilling cassie’s fantasies of fucking you against the bathroom stall’s wall.
what a waste of having worn her strap the whole day.
cassie had insisted once more in the staff rec room when you were making yourself a coffee. you almost gave in to her deep voice and desperate kisses. she even got to grind against you for about ten seconds against the counter when you made her stop. she looked devastated when you pushed past her, but you didn't budge. you gave her almost professional distance until the very second you clocked out.
on the way home (you made her drive there because you could see she had no intention in waiting any longer) her hand alternated between the gear lever and her own crotch, kneading at the fabric of her pants and grunting in frustration. the muscles of her forearm flexing around herself and her squinty eyes made you ache, suddenly desperate to get home too.
she's all hands now, stumbling inside as you've already grabbed her scrub and dragged her to your lips. she kicks the door behind her and as she shoved you back against the door, her hand flew up to cup the back of your head, her fingers tangling deep in your hair to make sure you didn't hit the wood too hard.
she managed to shove her pants down just enough and you mirrored her. the weight of the strap was finally free, and she didn't waste a second. she hiked one of your legs up so she could press the head of the toy right against your folds. she let out a long, shaky breath when she saw how wet you were, embarrassingly ready for her.
"you're so soaked for me, doll," she whispered, a dark, triumphant smirk pulling at her lips. "all that talk at the hospital, and look at you."
she didn't ease into it. she was too far gone for slow. she bucked her hips, driving herself inside you with a sharp, heavy thrust that had your head hitting her hand and a loud, shattered moan echoing off the hallway walls. she made sure to hook your legs around her waist now, holding you up by the back of your legs.
you had to reach back, your fingers white-knuckled as you gripped the door handle just to stay upright, the other on her hair, trying to undo her ponytail. every time she thrust her hips forward, the metal handle let out a sharp, rhythmic creak that echoed in the small entryway.
her lips trailed up from your shoulder to your lips while panting, sharing the same jagged breath, her tongue searching yours with hunger. she was completely gone, lost to the hormone surge and the sheer relief of finally having you where she wanted you.
the cold chain of her necklace kept swinging, brushing against your collarbones with every sharp, stuttering thrust. that little metallic sting of cold against your overheated skin was the only thing keeping you from completely blacking out.
"you're so tight," she whimpered into your mouth, her voice sounding small and wrecked. "god, i missed this so much."
you wanted to complain about how it hadn’t even been 10 hours since she fucked you, but then pressed more firmly against you, holding your weight with hers to reach down and hikes your legs higher for more leverage. “f—f— cassie…” you whine, throwing your head back as she thrusts harder now.
she watched the way the strap disappeared into you with her lips were parted, a thin sheen of sweat making her face glisten and blush, and she looked absolutely mesmerized by the sight of you stretching around her cock.
“hah… i’m so glad you’re off those pills…” you whimper, at her back, trying not to slip from her hold.
but it wasn't practical at all, and with the way she was driving into you, it was only a matter of time before gravity won. your hands slipped from the door handle, and you slid down the wood until you hit the rug with a heavy thud, your back still pinned firmly against the door. cassie didn't miss a beat; she just dropped with you, her knees hitting the floor and her weight crowding into your space until you were trapped between the door, the floor, and her.
cassie seemed to love this even more. the friction of the rug against your back and the cold wood against your head made the heat of her body feel like a fever. she braced one hand against the door right next to your head, while the other gripped your knee and shoved it back toward your shoulder to open you wider. she wanted to see everything.
"yeah?" she rasped, her voice sounding thick as she looked down at you.
she didn't waste any time getting back into a rhythm. with you pinned against the floor, she could drive into you with even more force. the thrusts were deeper and more punishing with the floor providing the resistance your hips couldn't, and they sent jolts of lightning through your core that made your head hit the door with every hit.
“you’re so pretty when you’re full of me,” she breathed, her hand shaking from the effort of keeping you wide. “‘m gonna keep you here all night, yeah?”
𐙚 summary : you decide to show your wife a little appreciation after waking up in the morning.
𐙚 warning / tags : smut! cunnilingus, fluff, porn with feelings, reader gender not specified, reader is called good boy and handsome.
𐙚 wc : 680 words
𐙚 author's note : guess who's not dead guys blah blah blah enjoy. hope to be writing a bit more soon but no promises. wrote this on a whim going fuck i need to post... so here you go. <3
the morning light peaks through the curtains, causing you to stir. you always woke up before your wife; accustomed to rising before the sun to take care of whatever the farm required so you could spend the rest of the day wasting time with your buddies. but once one body in the bed became two, and an arm wrapped tight 'round your waist held you in place, you'd accepted that maybe a couple more hours spent in bed weren't a waste.
beside you, quinn's still sleeping soundly. hair all messy, drool gathered at the corner of her lips, which are parted ever so slightly. she's beautiful. always is. but there's something special about the way she looks unguarded, putting her trust in you to keep her safe while she gets her rest. this quinn is for your eyes only.
you smile to yourself, bringing your hand up so your fingertips can brush her cheek light enough it won't wake her. despite how many times you've done this, woken up to her, it still doesn't feel real. like at any moment, the dream will end and you'll return to being a foolish kid pining after the pretty girl in your class.
but her warmth never fades. you allow yourself the pleasure of basking in it.
with a grunt, quinn shifts, slowly coming into consciousness. you take the opportunity to lean in and pepper kisses, soft and languid, along her neck when she stretches, exposing the skin to your lips. she makes a noise of contentment, hands searching for you. she doesn't need to open her eyes just yet. she'll let you bring all her other senses to life.
time stands still. you don't rush, never rush, exploring an expanse you're already intimately familiar with. you kiss down from her throat to the swell of her breasts, nuzzling between them in a way that earns a soft laugh from her. "silly," she whispers, fond. your heart practically swells in your chest.
further down you go, until you've shifted completely down the bed and find yourself between her thighs. the scent of her arousal lingers in the air, shiny evidence of her need for you sticking to her thighs.
it'd be wrong of you to leave her like this. who else is gonna clean her up?
quinn goes tense and melts into the sheets within the same breath at the first swipe of your tongue through her soaked folds, fingers finding your hair and tangling in the strands. you work her patiently, focusing on her clit the way you know she likes before plunging the muscle in as deep as you can. she swears, grip in your hair tightening. bastard.
she can feel your grin. the self-satisifed thing that irks her like no others. she loves it all the same. loves every bit of you. even if it proves to be rather bothersome.
you know she's close when her hips start to rock. giving into obedience, you bury yourself further in her cunt, encouraging her to use you for her own pleasure. she hums, holds you in place, and gets to work. no need to look a gift horse in the mouth. "good boy."
the entire lower half of your face has gotten beyond soaked by this point, but you don't care. not when your wife is rutting herself against your mouth so desperately, chasing that edge. you're groaning and whining against her, the sounds muffled but loud enough to get a reaction. quinn sucks her lower lip between her teeth, face scrunching up. another tell-tale. it isn't long after that she finally lets go.
you lick her through it gently, not stopping until her thighs are shaking on either side of her head and she's pawing at you weakly. with one last kiss to her clit just for good measure (which makes her shiver and huff,) you crawl back up to her face, smoothing her hair back and giving her forehead a kiss.
"good morning, my love."
she gives you a smile in return, still half-sleepy and now euphoric. "good morning, handsome."
summary » [requested]: after thoroughly breaking you with her strap, emily leaves you on your knees to catch your breath while dana takes her turn — spreading you open, fingering your soaked pussy, and teasing you with the vibrator until you’re shaking. together, they bend you over, overstimulate your clit, and degrade you until you’re nothing but a drooling, obedient fucktoy.
Soft. Eager. Obedient. That’s what Dana calls you when you’re naked between her thighs, eyes glossy and lips swollen from being kissed too hard and too long. Her voice is low and full of pride, fingers pressed into your jaw to keep your eyes on her as she tells you how pretty you are when you take what you’re given.
That’s what Emily murmurs when you’re on your knees, her fingers stroking your hair gently just before she grips it tight and tilts your head up so you see the hunger in her eyes.
They didn’t just fuck you. They claimed you. Broke you open piece by piece, rewired the way your body responds to touch, to tone, to the sound of either of them saying your name.
You’re theirs now. And it all started in a bar.
You didn’t belong there. Not really. You were too soft for that place, too polished, trying too hard to look confident in your cropped cardigan and that tiny skirt that barely passed as modest. Lip gloss shiny, perfume a little too sweet, sipping something pink through a straw while the older men hovered nearby, circling like they could taste your inexperience. You played with the rim of your glass, feigning disinterest, but your eyes flicked to the door every few minutes like you were waiting for someone to save you.
They noticed you immediately.
Dana saw you first, leaning against the edge of the bar with her toned arms crossed over her chest, her dark scrub top tight against her frame, medical ID badge still clipped to her waistband. She’d just come off a long shift. Tired. Tense. Hungry in more ways than one.
Her blonde hair was twisted up haphazardly and her fingers were stained with ink from the forms she hated filling out. But when her eyes landed on you, something shifted in her posture. A slow, interested tilt of her head. That small, dangerous smirk she only got when she saw something, someone, she wanted.
Emily stood beside her, glass of whiskey half-finished in her hand. Dressed in her usual black. Tailored jacket, crisp shirt, pants cut sharp along long legs. Her silver-streaked hair was slicked back, neck exposed. She looked like danger in heels. Controlled. Calculated. But when Dana’s gaze lingered on you, Emily followed it with an easy, quiet curiosity.
“She’s cute,” Dana murmured, sipping her drink as her eyes slid over your legs.
Emily chuckled, eyes sharp and unreadable. “She’s soft.”
“She’s submissive.”
Emily turned fully then, observing you. Not just your body, but your tension. Your hesitation. The little tells, the way you shifted in your seat like you didn’t know what to do with your thighs, the way you looked down whenever someone made eye contact too long. You weren’t just cute. You were ripe. Ready for the right hands to pull you apart.
“She’ll melt for the right tone,” Dana added. “I can see it.”
“You want her?”
Dana’s mouth twitched. “I want to wreck her.”
Emily grinned, slow and feral. “Then let’s go introduce ourselves.”
They moved in together. Wolves in leather and steel. You didn’t stand a chance.
Dana sat on your right, the heat of her body sinking into your skin before she even touched you. Emily took the left, her hand brushing your shoulder lightly as she pretended to ask if the seat was taken, even though she was already sitting.
“You here by yourself, sweetheart?” Emily asked, her voice smooth and low, barely audible under the throb of the bass. Her eyes locked on yours with such intense stillness that you couldn’t lie.
You nodded. Small. Embarrassed.
Dana leaned in, voice rougher, playfully biting. “You shouldn’t be. Not looking like that.”
They bought your drink. And your next. They didn’t touch you too much. Just enough. Emily’s fingers brushing your knee, Dana’s hand lingering at the small of your back. Their attention was laser-focused, not performative, not forced. They looked at you like they already knew how you tasted when you came. Like they already had you marked.
You didn’t know then what they were. What they’d do to you. But you wanted to.
What you didn’t know, what they didn’t tell you until much later, was that Dana and Emily were already together long before that night. Two sharp women from two different worlds, drawn together by violence, trauma, and slow-burning hunger.
They met at a hospital two years earlier.
Emily had been brought in by ambulance, half-conscious, suit jacket soaked in blood, teeth gritted around a hissed curse as medics shouted codes and numbers over her body. A bullet lodged in her side. Deep. Close to dangerous. Close enough. Her team was panicked. Her vitals were crashing.
But Dana, calm, relentless Dana, was already gloving up, snapping orders and shoving interns aside as she cut away Emily’s clothes, barking for a crash cart, already stitching before anyone else knew what to do.
Emily faded in and out. But the one thing she remembered was Dana’s voice. Controlled, clipped. “You’re not dying on my table. Try not to be dramatic.”
Emily had smiled through the morphine haze. “You’re hot when you’re bossy.”
Dana stitched her tighter.
She stayed after her shift. Sat in the corner of Emily’s room with a black coffee and bloody gloves still shoved in her pocket, watching her sleep like she didn’t know why she couldn’t leave. Emily woke up two hours later, groggy and pale, eyes half-lidded but sharp.
“You again,” she whispered.
Dana didn’t smile. Just said, “Your chart says you’ll live. Try not to fuck that up.”
Emily arched a brow, voice dry. “Stay a little longer. I like the way you look at me.”
That night didn’t end in bed. It ended in a stairwell. Dana pressed up against the wall, Emily’s hand already in her scrubs, mouths crashing like fire meeting gasoline. Neither of them gentle. Neither of them shy. It was rough. Messy. Dana came gasping into Emily’s palm, nails digging into her shoulder.
Emily didn’t even stop smiling. They didn’t ask for names. Didn’t need to. Because the next time Emily came in for a check-up, Dana dragged her into the supply closet and fucked her so hard a nurse banged on the door.
It became a thing. Then a routine. Then a relationship. They didn’t put a label on it, but they didn’t look at anyone else. Dana knew how to take. Emily knew how to submit when it mattered. They were equal in power and opposites in method. It worked.
But the first time they saw you?
They knew what they were missing.
And now? Now you’re kneeling between them, pliant and perfect, waiting for a command. Their babygirl. Their spoiled, desperate little thing. And tonight, they’re going to remind you exactly whose you are.
Your knees sink into the plush rug beside the bed, thighs slightly parted, arms behind your back because Dana told you to keep them there. You’re dressed in the soft pink lace set they picked out for you — sheer, delicate, completely impractical. The bra hugs your chest but does nothing to hide your nipples, already hard and aching. The matching panties cling to your folds, a darker patch forming at the center from how soaked you are. A bow sits at the waistband. Dana calls it your “gift wrap.” Emily just smirks when she sees you wear it.
Emily is standing in front of you, completely naked except for the thick black strap harnessed around her hips. Her thighs are tense, feet planted wide, arms crossed over her chest as she stares down at you. The base of the strap glistens with lube she spread across it earlier, slow and deliberate, watching your mouth fall open as she did it. Now she runs a hand through your hair, gripping the back of your head firmly but not yet pulling.
“Open up, baby,” Emily says softly. “You know what to do.”
Your lips part. You press your tongue out, already drooling. Dana moves behind you, kneeling with her thighs on either side of yours, her bare chest pressed lightly to your back. One of her hands slides around your throat, the other rests on your jaw, gently guiding your head forward.
“Deep breath,” Dana murmurs. “And take her like the good girl I know you are.”
You moan softly as Emily pushes the head of the strap onto your tongue. It’s smooth and warm from her skin. You wrap your lips around it and begin to suck, slow and obedient, eyes fluttering up to look at her. Emily’s breath hitches — not because she can feel it, but because she’s watching you ruin yourself for her.
Dana’s grip tightens slightly around your neck. Not choking. Just reminding. Just controlling.
“That’s it,” Dana whispers into your ear. “Look at her while you suck it. Drool down your chin. Let her see how messy you are.”
You take more, inch by inch, letting your spit coat the shaft as you work your mouth deeper. Emily groans softly, hips rolling once, her voice low.
“Such a pretty little cockslut,” she says. “You love putting on a show, don’t you?”
You moan around the silicone, eyes wet, spit already leaking from the corners of your mouth and dripping down your chin. Dana licks it off. Her tongue trails from your jaw to your ear, slow and filthy.
“She’s drooling all over you,” Dana says with a dark laugh. “Think she’s ready to be fucked yet?”
Emily smiles. “Not until she chokes on it. You can take more, can’t you, sweetheart?”
You nod as best you can. Dana guides your head forward, slowly pressing you down on the strap until the tip kisses the back of your throat. You gag slightly. Your body twitches. But you hold.
Emily strokes your cheek, voice low and proud. “Good girl. Take it. That’s it.”
Your throat tightens as the strap slides deeper. Your eyes are glassy, spit coating your lips, your chin, dripping down onto your chest in slick strings. Emily doesn’t move, doesn’t thrust. She lets you work yourself down inch by inch, watching you choke sweetly on her cock with flushed cheeks and tears streaking your face.
Dana’s hand stays firm on your throat, not squeezing, just holding you there — feeling your swallow, your tension, the exact second you start to tremble.
“She’s drooling all over it,” Dana murmurs with a satisfied hum, pressing a soft kiss behind your ear. “Making such a mess. You hear those sounds, Em? She’s fucking gagging for it.”
You whimper around the strap, gag catching in the back of your throat as Dana urges you forward again. Her other hand slips down your stomach, teasing at the hem of your soaked panties.
Emily’s voice is calm but dangerous. “Don’t stop. Not until your spit’s dripping onto the floor.”
You choke slightly, the strap hitting the back of your throat again. It hurts. It burns. It’s perfect. Your eyes flutter shut, but Dana slaps your thigh — hard — snapping you back.
“Eyes open,” she growls. “Look at her while you take it.”
You force them open, locking on Emily’s face. Her jaw is tense, her lips parted, her chest rising with slow, deep breaths. You know she can’t feel the strap the way you feel it, but that doesn’t matter. The control gets her off. Watching you kneel for her, fall apart for her, ruin your face on her cock.
Drool spills from your mouth. Your chin is slick. Your lips are stretched wide and trembling. Emily wipes a tear from your cheek with her thumb and coos softly.
“There you go. Such a good little fuckdoll for us.”
Dana slips her fingers under the waistband of your panties, pressing between your folds. You jerk forward, the movement pushing the strap even deeper. You gag again, but don’t pull back.
“God, she’s soaked,” Dana says with a grin. “She likes choking on it.”
Emily raises a brow, dragging the strap from your mouth slowly, watching the spit cling and trail between your lips and the tip. You gasp, chest heaving, drool dripping freely now. A strand hits your thigh.
Emily leans in, cupping your face, her voice almost sweet. “You want more, baby?”
You nod frantically, still catching your breath, your voice wrecked. “Yes. Please. Please, Mommy.”
Dana growls behind you. “Then open wider.”
Emily smirks. “Time to fuck that pretty little mouth.”
You barely get the chance to breathe before she’s back in your throat. Her hand twists in your hair, the other steadying on your shoulder as she rolls her hips forward and sinks the full length of the strap into your mouth again.
It’s thick, coated in your spit, and the base rubs deliciously against her clit with every slow, intentional thrust. She groans above you, deep and low, her control slipping as she watches you swallow her cock with tears clinging to your lashes and drool dripping freely down your chin.
Behind you, Dana's breath is hot against your neck, and then her hand is between your legs again. She pushes your thighs open wider, and her fingers slide through your folds — soaked, swollen, slick. Your pussy’s flushed, throbbing, lips glossy with arousal and spread open, already fluttering around nothing, begging to be filled. Dana hums in approval, her voice low and filthy.
“Fuck, baby. You’re soaked. This pussy’s making a mess all over my hand.”
Her fingers glide through the mess, gathering your slick, and then two of them press in, thick and unrelenting. She pushes deep in one smooth stroke, curling them immediately, pressing against that soft, sensitive spot that makes your hips twitch forward. Your cunt clenches greedily around her knuckles, already fluttering like you're close — too close for how little time has passed.
“You’re gripping me so tight,” she growls into your ear, curling her fingers again. “This sloppy little hole was just waiting for me, wasn’t it?”
Your moan is muffled by the strap in your mouth, spit bubbling up around it, thick strings dripping down onto your chest. Emily fucks your throat harder now, the base of the strap grinding perfectly over her clit. Her jaw is tight, her brows furrowed, her voice rough with arousal.
“Keep choking on it,” she commands, rolling her hips again. “Just like that, baby. Mouth wide and full — fuck, you’re so fucking good at this.”
Dana adds a third finger, stretching your pussy wide. You cry out around the strap, thighs shaking as the pressure builds too fast. Her palm presses up against your clit now, her fingers thrusting hard and wet, obscene sounds echoing in the room as she fucks you open from behind.
“Listen to how wet she is, Em,” Dana laughs, voice thick with hunger. “She’s dripping all over my fucking hand. You hear that? That’s the sound of our sweet little fucktoy begging to come.”
Emily’s thrusts get rougher. She bites her bottom lip, the friction against her clit driving her closer with every snap of her hips. The way your throat tightens around the strap, the spit coating your chin and tits, the desperate whimpering sounds vibrating in your throat — it pushes her right to the edge.
“Oh my God,” she gasps, burying the strap in deep and holding it there. “Fuck. Fuck, I’m—”
Her body tenses, her hips twitch, and she comes with a sharp groan, riding the base of the strap against her clit until her thighs shake. Her fingers dig into your scalp, breath ragged and hot above you as she keeps your mouth full while she rides it out.
Dana doesn’t stop. Her fingers keep pumping in and out of your soaked pussy, harder now, wetter now, her palm slapping against your cunt with every thrust.
“You made her come,” Dana purrs into your ear, voice dark and breathy. “Look at you. Drooling all over, gagging on her cock, pussy squeezing me like a desperate little slut. And you still haven’t come.”
Her fingers curl again, grinding up into you cruelly, making you scream around the strap.
“You don’t come,” she growls, lips against your ear, “until we say you can.”
And you’re nodding, crying, moaning around Emily’s cock — because you’ll do anything they tell you. Anything for your Mommy. Anything for your Nurse. Anything for them.
Emily slowly pulls the strap from your mouth, dragging it from your throat with deliberate slowness. Your jaw aches, lips glossy and swollen, spit webbing between your tongue and the tip, thick and wet and obscene. You breathe heavily through your mouth, panting, drool sliding down your chin in a slow, sticky trail.
Emily’s hand comes to your cheek, thumb pressing into the mess and smearing it across your face. Her touch isn’t cruel, but it’s claiming, filthy and fond, like she’s proud of the ruin she’s made of you.
“Good little cocksleeve,” she whispers, voice a low hum of satisfaction. Her gaze doesn’t leave your face, watching your glassy, tear-rimmed eyes and parted lips. “You took that like you were made for it. Like your mouth was built to worship my cock.”
Behind you, Dana is still buried between your thighs, and she’s anything but gentle now. Her fingers are soaked with your slick, knuckles gliding in and out of your fluttering cunt in steady, unforgiving thrusts.
Her palm slaps rhythmically against your folds, loud and wet, each movement making your body jolt forward. Her hand isn’t just moving through you — she’s working you, curling her fingers just right, grinding into your walls like she owns every inch of your cunt.
“You hear that, Em?” Dana growls near your ear, her breath hot and damp against your neck. “Listen to her. That’s not just slick, that’s fucking need. She’s so wet she’s dripping down my wrist.”
She punctuates it with a harsh thrust, pressing her palm right against your clit. You cry out, high-pitched and helpless, your legs trembling, hips stuttering forward. Your pussy is flushed, stretched wide around her fingers, lips red and puffy, coated in arousal and spit where your thighs meet. You’re soaked — a mess of slick and need, your hole fluttering with every push, every rub, like your body is begging for more, for anything they’ll give you.
Emily drops to her knees in front of you, her fingers brushing against Dana’s at your core, both of them cupping you from either side. Their hands meet there, skin on skin, their fingers pressing and parting your folds together. You can feel them both — one inside you, the other stroking over your clit, tapping it lightly, watching your whole body twitch.
“Spread her,” Emily says softly, her tone sharp beneath the sweetness.
Dana obeys. She pulls you open with her free hand, two fingers hooked around your outer lips, baring you completely for Emily’s gaze. Your pussy’s glistening, dripping, twitching visibly every time air brushes over your exposed clit.
Emily leans in. Her breath fans across your cunt. “Look at this messy little thing,” she murmurs, dragging her fingers over the sensitive bud, slow and cruel. “So red. So needy. She’d let us use her for hours like this. Wouldn’t you, baby?”
You’re beyond words. Everything’s too much, the stretch of Dana’s fingers inside you, the brush of Emily’s voice against your skin, the pressure at your clit that threatens to split you open. You moan loud, desperate, trembling as you start to buck into their hands, chasing friction, chasing anything.
Dana’s mouth is at your neck now, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your sweaty skin. “You wanna come, babygirl?” she purrs. “Wanna soak my fingers like a good little whore?”
You whimper, voice cracking. “Please. Please, I need to — please.”
Emily’s hand grabs your chin, nails digging into your cheeks as she forces you to look at her. “You gonna thank us for it? Gonna cry while you come all over our hands? Say it.”
Your voice is barely there, broken and breathless. “Thank you, Mommy. Thank you. Please, please, please—”
Dana thrusts harder, her fingers pounding into your pussy now, fucking you rough and fast while her palm rubs tight circles over your clit. The pressure builds fast, the ache white-hot and all-consuming. You’re gasping, sobbing, your whole body rocking forward with each thrust as your orgasm barrels toward you.
“Come for us,” Emily growls, her mouth hovering over yours, her fingers joining Dana’s on your clit. “Right now. Be our perfect little fucktoy and make a mess.”
Dana curls her fingers deep, her thumb grinding against your clit with ruthless precision — and you shatter. Your body tenses and then convulses violently, thighs clamping around her hand, pussy spasming around her fingers.
You scream, crying her name, hips jerking, back arching as you gush all over their hands. Slick pours from you, soaking Dana’s hand, splattering the inside of your thighs and dripping down to the floor in long, messy streams.
Dana holds you through it, fingers still buried deep as your pussy pulses and clenches. “There it is,” she groans, kissing your temple as you cry into Emily’s shoulder. “There’s my good fucking girl.”
Emily kisses you hard, tongue, spit, teeth. It’s messy, possessive, her hand still between your legs, sliding through the wetness like she never wants to stop touching you.
You’re limp between them, trembling, face ruined with tears and spit, pussy aching and stretched, leaking down your legs.
But they aren’t finished.
Emily pulls back, lips brushing your cheek, her voice soft and lethal. “Now bend her over.”
Dana grins behind you, already shifting to grab your waist. “With fucking pleasure.”
Dana doesn’t waste a second. Her hands grip your waist firmly, dragging your pliant body downward, bending you at the waist until your elbows press into the mattress and your chest sinks into the sheets. Your ass is raised high, thighs parted wide for them. You’re still shaking — slick, overstimulated, the muscles in your legs trembling from the orgasm they just tore out of you. But Dana doesn’t care. If anything, it makes her hungrier. She tilts your hips up just a little more, your soaked cunt fully exposed, glistening, flushed, open and begging without needing a word.
Behind you, Emily never removes the strap. She watches your body fold forward, the glistening silicone cock twitching slightly as she shifts her weight, her breathing already heavier. Her thighs are tight, jaw clenched, the base of the harness perfectly positioned against her clit, still slick with the mess your mouth left behind. She grabs her cock at the base, smears it through your dripping folds, letting the lube and your arousal coat your slit. The head teases your entrance, nudging with slow, deliberate pressure that makes your cunt clench helplessly.
Dana is above you now, crawling onto the bed in front of you, spreading her legs until her pussy is eye-level. She’s wet, visibly pulsing, flushed pink and slick with arousal. You can smell her — sweet and sharp, hot and earthy, musky with need. She slides her fingers into your hair, gently at first, then firmer as she guides you forward until your mouth is buried between her thighs. Her voice is rough, vibrating with anticipation.
“Open wide, babygirl. Stick your tongue out and don’t stop licking until my thighs are shaking.”
The second your tongue meets her folds, Emily drives the strap into you with a deep, sharp thrust. You cry out against Dana’s pussy, your moan muffled by her heat, her clit brushing your upper lip as you part her with your tongue. The cock stretches you fast — thick, unrelenting — your cunt slick enough to take it easily, but still tight, walls fluttering around the intrusion. The stretch burns in the best way, your body arching, back taut, as Emily fills you to the hilt.
Then Dana reaches for the drawer.
You hear the soft hum before you see it. The vibrator — long, black, and powerful — clicks to life in her hand, the low buzzing cutting through the air like a threat. She brings it to your hand and curls your fingers around it.
“You know what to do,” she murmurs, her breath ghosting against your ear as you try to keep licking. “Hold it against that aching little clit of yours. Don’t pull away. Don’t stop. Keep it pressed there while Emily fucks you.”
You’re already trembling as you slide the vibrator down between your thighs, finding your swollen clit and holding the toy against it. The second it touches, your whole body spasms. The buzz is sharp, brutal, vibrating through your soaked skin and straight into your nerves. Your thighs jerk, cunt clenching hard around the strap, and your tongue falters on Dana’s clit for just a second before she grabs your hair and yanks your face back into her.
“Focus,” she snaps. “Suck my clit like a good girl, or I’ll sit on your face and smother you in it.”
You moan against her, licking desperately now — your lips slick with her arousal, your mouth full of heat and taste, your nose buried between her thighs as she rocks against your tongue. She’s soaked, throbbing, every flick of your tongue drawing out a hiss from her mouth. Her grip on your hair tightens, holding you exactly where she wants you.
Behind you, Emily starts to move.
She pulls out slow, then slams back in, the cock driving deep into your soaked pussy with a wet, obscene sound. Her hands clamp down on your hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh as she starts to build a rhythm — slow and punishing, hips grinding forward each time the base of the strap rubs directly over her clit. Her voice drops, breathless and sharp.
“Keep that vibrator on your clit, slut. I want you trembling the whole time I fuck this greedy hole.”
You try. You really do. But your hand is shaking, your grip is loose, and every time the head of the cock hits your cervix, the vibrator buzzes harder against your clit, forcing your body to twitch, your thighs to shake, your pussy to pulse around her. You’re dripping now — slick running down your inner thighs, pooling at the base of the strap, making a mess of Emily’s hips. Each thrust drives it deeper, the sound of skin against skin echoing with the wet slap of Dana’s thighs against your face.
Dana moans above you, breath ragged as you work your mouth on her. “Good fucking girl,” she growls. “Your tongue’s perfect. Filthy little thing, licking me while your cunt gets split open.”
Emily leans over your back now, her chest pressing against your spine, one hand sliding up to your throat to hold you steady. Her voice is a whisper, but deadly.
“Don’t even think about coming yet,” she hisses. “You come when I say. Keep that vibrator there and take it.”
The pressure is unbearable. Your clit is throbbing, nerves on fire, pussy clenching so hard around the strap you can feel your own slick squirting with every thrust. Your jaw aches from licking Dana, but you can’t stop. Her thighs are tight around your face now, her breath growing ragged as your tongue flicks fast and desperate over her clit.
Your vision is blurry. Your voice is gone. Your body is a mess of spit and slick and trembling overstimulation.
And they’re loving it.
Dana’s thighs start to tremble on either side of your face, her hips jerking in small, uncontrollable movements as your tongue works over her clit. You can feel her starting to lose control, the way her grip in your hair tightens, the way her breath stutters above you, the slick pouring from her cunt coating your lips, chin, and the sheets below.
“That’s it,” she gasps, voice cracking with pleasure. “Right there. Don’t you fucking stop. Don’t you dare—”
You moan into her heat, lips wrapped around her clit as you suck her through it, your tongue flicking fast, relentless, hungry. Her entire body seizes. Her thighs clamp around your head, pulling you in as she shakes, grinding her pussy against your mouth as she comes hard.
The taste of her coats your tongue, hot, thick, overwhelming and you lap it up like it’s the only thing keeping you alive. She cries out your name, low and raw, as she rocks through every wave of it, her hands tangled in your hair like she never wants to let you go.
Behind you, Emily is still fucking you deep. Her strap pistons in and out of your cunt with sharp, punishing strokes, her hips slamming against your ass with every thrust. The vibrator is still pressed to your clit, buzzing violently.
Your hand is shaking, fingers slipping, your body convulsing from the stimulation. Dana’s orgasm, the taste, the sound of her unravelling, pushes you right to the edge — and then shoves you over it.
Your vision blurs, mouth still buried between Dana’s thighs, and your pussy clenches around the strap. A sob escapes your throat. Your body locks up, then explodes, the orgasm ripping through you so suddenly it knocks the breath from your lungs. You cry out, high and broken, your thighs jerking as wetness gushes from your cunt, slick pouring down your legs as your pussy spasms uncontrollably.
You know you weren’t supposed to.
Emily knows too.
The second she hears your moan shift, that sweet, pathetic edge of release in your voice, she stops.
You barely have time to breathe before her palm slams across your ass with a loud, sharp crack.
“You fucking came without permission?” she growls, voice hard and dark now. Her hand comes down again, another spank, rough and punishing, making your body jolt forward.
Dana’s thighs slide from your face as she catches her breath, her eyes already narrowed in playful disapproval. She grabs your jaw, tilts your head up, her palm landing in a light, sharp slap across your cheek.
“Tsk,” she clicks her tongue. “We spoil you, and this is how you thank us? Coming like a needy little brat with no manners?”
You whimper, still twitching, overwhelmed. The vibrator is still buzzing in your hand, your clit red and throbbing, hypersensitive and aching. Emily grabs it from you, presses it harder against your swollen bud, and you scream.
“Oh, no,” she snarls. “You don’t get mercy. Not when you disobey.”
Her cock slams back into your dripping pussy, now even rougher, the stretch unbearable in your sensitive state. Her thrusts are brutal, punishing, hips snapping forward with a growl every time her cock drives deep into your spasming cunt. You can’t even think, can’t breathe. Your body is spent, but they don’t stop. They won’t let you off that easy.
“You don’t come until we say,” Dana hisses, her hand stroking down your face almost lovingly before landing another sharp slap to the other cheek. “And now? You’re gonna take it. Again. And again.”
Emily’s grip on your hips bruises as she fucks you harder. Your cries are incoherent now, throat raw, tongue heavy with Dana’s taste, pussy leaking down your thighs with every thrust. The vibrator buzzes mercilessly against your clit. Your cunt is a soaked mess, stretched wide and twitching, sucking the strap in with every punishing stroke.
They’re going to fuck the lesson into you.
And you’re going to thank them for it.
Your body is on fire. Every nerve is screaming. Your hands tremble beneath you, your legs barely holding you up. But Emily doesn’t slow down. The strap slams into your cunt again and again, your slick coating her thighs, dripping down the length of the cock she’s fucking into you. You’re crying now, moaning, your voice broken and high as your overstimulated body jerks beneath her. And still, the vibrator never leaves your clit.
Dana kneels in front of you, lazy and satisfied, but her eyes haven’t left your face. She watches the way you twitch, how your jaw trembles, how tears cut tracks down your cheeks. Her hand moves with slow, deliberate rhythm, dragging the vibrator over your clit in tight, cruel circles. She presses it harder, holding it in place, her voice thick with amusement.
“She’s going to break,” she says to Emily like you’re not even there, her tone casual, conversational. “Look at her. Fucking shaking like a pathetic little doll. Soaking the sheets and still trying to come like she’s earned it.”
Emily lets out a breathless laugh behind you, hips slamming forward again. The base of the strap grinds hard against her clit and she moans deep in her throat, fingers digging into your hips.
“She didn’t earn a damn thing,” Emily growls, sweat dripping from her temple. “She came without permission like a needy, greedy little hole. That’s all she is right now. A fucking hole to use.”
Dana tilts your chin up with her free hand, eyes glinting. “You hear that, baby? You’re not even a person right now. Just a warm, wet mouth and a tight little cunt for us to use. That’s all.”
You whimper, your body spasming violently under the force of the vibrator and Emily’s cock pounding into you. You’re too sensitive, too raw, but it doesn’t matter. Your pussy clenches again, soaking the strap, a fresh gush of slick spilling out of you as your clit pulses under the vibrator’s pressure. You try to pull back, to escape, but Dana grabs your hair and shoves your face back into her bare thigh.
“Take it,” she snaps. “Fucking take it. Come again for us. Make it hurt.”
Emily’s thrusts grow erratic. The pressure on her clit from the harness, the heat of your cunt squeezing her cock, the sound of you breaking beneath her — it pushes her right to the edge. She leans over you, her chest slick against your back, and buries the strap in you to the hilt, grinding it in deep, letting the base press hard into her clit as she moans through clenched teeth.
“Fucking— fuck, yes— oh my God—”
She comes hard, body locking above you, trembling as her orgasm rolls through her. She pants through it, hips twitching forward once more to grind every last wave of pleasure out against the strap, using your body like you were built for nothing else.
You’re crying now, the vibrator shaking against your clit as Dana keeps it locked in place. Your legs collapse beneath you. Emily holds you up by your hips, keeping her cock buried in your soaked cunt, pinning you in place.
Dana watches you fall apart with a smirk, shaking her head like she’s disappointed.
“She’s coming again,” she says with a mocking little laugh, holding the vibrator tighter to your pulsing clit. “Of course she is. Just can’t stop, can you, baby? Can’t help yourself. Just a useless, sloppy little thing.”
You scream through your orgasm, your body giving out completely, twitching and writhing as your cunt clenches around the strap and more slick floods down your thighs. Your clit pulses beneath the vibrator, your whole body jerking with each wave, and still, they don’t stop.
“Look at the fucking mess she’s made,” Emily mutters, slowly pulling the strap from your cunt with a wet sound. Your pussy twitches around nothing now, fluttering open, red, used, dripping. “Pathetic.”
Dana brushes hair from your face, sweat-slick strands sticking to your cheeks. Her voice is sweet now, mocking in its gentleness. “Aw. There’s our little doll. All empty. All dumb. Can’t even think anymore, can you?”
You sob.
And they smile.
Because that’s exactly what they wanted.
You’re barely coherent. Your limbs are trembling, your face sticky with Dana’s release, tears drying along your cheeks. Your cunt is raw, twitching, leaking down your thighs in thick streams of slick and spit and sweat. The vibrator finally falls from your hand, your fingers no longer able to hold it, your body slumped completely against the bed as Emily slowly pulls the strap from your overstimulated pussy.
It slips out with a wet, messy sound that makes your whole body flinch. Your inner thighs are soaked, your pussy lips red and parted, still fluttering with aftershocks as your hole clenches around nothing.
Emily exhales sharply through her nose, the air hot against your spine. Her hands are steady as she reaches down to unclip the harness, muscles shifting beneath sweat-slicked skin. She undoes the buckles slowly, deliberately, letting the tension sit in the air. The moment the harness drops to the floor with a heavy thud, you can finally exhale.
You turn your head toward Dana’s lap, eyes wide, lips trembling, throat dry. Your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper — ragged and reverent.
“Thank you,” you murmur, then again, louder, shaking. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. Thank you so much.”
Dana smiles down at you, satisfied, still flushed from her orgasm, her hand stroking your cheek as she cups your face. “Such a polite little thing when you’re wrecked. Look at you. Can’t stop thanking us. You finally remember your manners?”
You nod quickly, desperate, worshipful, your voice cracking as you continue. “I’m sorry I came. I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to. Thank you for using me. I needed it so bad. Please don’t stop. Please…”
Emily walks around to the front of the bed now, fully bare, her body tall and sharp in the soft lighting. Her skin is flushed along her chest and collarbones, thighs streaked with your slick. She looks down at you with a lazy tilt of her head, the faintest curve to her mouth.
“You’re a fucking wreck,” she says, reaching down to grab your chin between her fingers, lifting your face. “And you’re still thanking us. God, you’re perfect.”
Her thumb strokes your bottom lip, watching how it trembles under her touch. You’re completely pliant, dripping and messy, eyes glazed with obedience, mouth open for whatever they give you next. You whisper again, “Thank you,” like it’s sacred, like it’s your whole language now.
Dana leans in behind you, her fingers running between your thighs, collecting your slick and rubbing it slowly into your sore, swollen folds. Her touch is light now, slow, coaxing. She presses a kiss to your temple as you shiver.
“You did so well for us, babygirl,” she murmurs. “We’re proud of you.”
Emily kisses your forehead next, her fingers replacing Dana’s, stroking your ruined pussy gently now. “And you’re going to say thank you again when we clean you up.”
You nod. Immediately.
“Good girl.”
Your legs don’t hold when you try to move. Dana sees it instantly, wrapping her arms around your waist from behind and lifting you effortlessly. Your head falls back against her shoulder, limp and hazy, your body still twitching from the overstimulation. Emily’s hand strokes your cheek, thumb brushing softly beneath your eye, wiping away a lingering tear with delicate precision.
“Come on,” she says, her voice lower now, warm and commanding in a different way. “Let us take care of you.”
Dana carries you into the bathroom, your thighs still slick, lips parted and babbling soft thank-yous as she sets you down gently on the shower bench. The bathroom lights are soft, and the air is already warming with steam by the time Emily turns on the tap. She tests the temperature with her wrist, adjusting it until it’s perfect, then pulls the glass door shut behind her.
The water is hot and steady as it begins to cascade down your back. You flinch at first, your skin so sensitive it feels electric but Dana’s behind you in seconds, her body pressing into yours, soaking with you. She cups your jaw and tilts your head back against her chest, murmuring gently into your ear.
“Breathe, babygirl. Just breathe.”
Emily kneels in front of you, her wet hands spreading over your thighs, parting them slowly. She’s quiet, focused, her eyes on your puffy, swollen pussy as she carefully starts rinsing the mess from between your legs. Her fingers are featherlight now, using a soft cloth, gentle strokes moving over your folds, cleaning every drop of slick and spit and come from your skin. She doesn't rush it. She handles you like something precious.
Your lips tremble. “I’m sorry I made such a mess…”
Emily looks up, frowns, and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh.
“That mess was ours, sweetheart,” she says. “Don’t you dare apologize for what we did to this gorgeous little pussy.”
Dana chuckles softly, one arm wrapping around your middle as she kisses the side of your neck. “You’re ours. And we love when you break for us.”
Water streams down all three of you, washing away the sweat, the tears, the heat. Emily works a gentle shampoo into your hair, her nails scratching lightly over your scalp, lathering you with care. Dana hums behind you, rocking slightly, holding you in her arms like you’ll float away if she lets go.
Once Emily rinses your hair, she leans in and kisses your forehead, her lips lingering as the water patters across her back. “How’s your color, baby?” she whispers.
You nod slowly, softly. “Green. Just… floaty.”
Dana smiles against your neck. “That’s exactly where we want you.”
They clean every inch of you. Not a spot left untouched. Your arms, your breasts, your stomach. Emily even washes behind your ears, smiling a little when you let out a sleepy noise. Dana takes care of your legs, guiding you to stand just enough so she can rinse between your thighs again. She kisses your lower back when you whimper.
“There’s my sweet girl,” she murmurs. “Taking it all. Letting us care for you. You did so fucking good tonight.”
When they finish, Emily turns the water off and grabs the fluffiest towel from the rack. Dana helps you step out of the shower, arms under your thighs and back again, lifting you like you weigh nothing. She sets you on the counter while Emily kneels to dry your legs, carefully patting down the inside of your thighs, the curve of your hips.
Wrapped in towels and held tight between them, Dana presses a kiss to your wet hair while Emily whispers against your shoulder, “You’re ours. Every inch. You did everything right.”
And in that moment, skin warm, muscles aching, heart full, you believe it.
emily prentiss loves fucking you face-down in her bed, strap buried deep, one hand on your lower back to keep you still.
she likes it when you go quiet. when the teasing stops, when your legs fall apart willingly, when your cheek presses into her soft sheets and your pretty lips go slack and wet and open. she loves that you trust her enough to give in. her hips move slow at first, fucking the strap into you with steady rolls, letting you feel every inch of it drag along your swollen walls until you start to tremble from the pressure. “there you go,” she murmurs, voice low and smooth, her breath warm against your shoulder as she bends over you, kissing the top of your spine while the harness creaks softly between your bodies. “look how good you take it.” the toy is thick, solid, curved just right to stroke your sweet spot every time her hips meet your ass. and she watches. emily never looks away. her dark eyes are fixed on the way your body gives out under hers, on the way your thighs shake, your pussy so wet it glistens even in the low light of the bedroom, slick making a mess down your thighs. she swears you get tighter every time she praises you. she knows exactly what it does to you when she leans in and whispers, “i could fuck this pussy forever.”
she likes the rhythm of it; your soft gasps, the wet slap of skin on skin, the quiet creak of the bed as she picks up her pace. her grip on your back tightens when you start to writhe, when your hips stutter and your cunt clenches down around the strap like you’re close, too close, begging without words. “you can take more,” she breathes, voice patient, teasing, sweet like honey laced with arsenic. “you wanted it, didn’t you? said you could handle it.” her hand curls into your hair. pulls your head back. she loves seeing your fucked-out face when she does it, makeup smudged, eyes glossy, lips parted and ruined. she doesn’t let up until your pussy is twitching, soaked, until your whole body shakes through your orgasm and she can feel it in the way you arch back into her, greedy for every last inch.
and even then, she’s not done. emily fucks like she needs to prove something. slow and deep at first, then hard, then filthy, using your body like it’s hers to play with — and it is. “again,” she says, dragging the toy out so just the tip stays inside, then slamming back in until you cry out, hands gripping her sheets, whole body jolting from the force. “give me another. i’m not stopping until i’ve got your cum all over me.” she fucks you until your voice breaks, until the room smells like sex and sweat and lavender, until your pussy is sore and spent and dripping all over her thighs. and when it’s over, when you’re boneless and gasping and fucked-out beneath her, she kisses your shoulder and whispers, “good girl,” like it’s sacred. like it’s holy. like she means it with her whole heart.
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