Oh It Is Monstrous, Monstrous | Chapter 1 | Femme Reader
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“Careful now,” Pierrot’s voice was lower than the bottom of the ocean as he whispered in your ear. “Remember it’s all in the flick of the wrist and the timing.”
His hand engulfed yours, his fingers overlapping yours as you pinched the blade of the knife between forefinger and thumb. His other hand was on your waist. He was bent over you in a way that would have been either comical or terrifying, depending on if the viewer could tell that he wasn’t wearing stilts. His chin rested on your shoulder, his lips next to your ear. You knew that no one would be able to see his mouth moving. No one would be able to hear him. No one but you. That voice was for you alone.
Well…almost you alone.
“And don’t forget to let go of the blade eventually,” Harlequin chirped behind you.
As Pierrot’s hand guided your arm through the motion again, moving at the elbow and not the shoulder, you let the momentum carry you. The knife spun through the air. The handle hit the target in the center and it bounced to the ground, clattering across the asphalt the tent was set up on.
You shot a glare over your shoulder at Harlequin, who shrugged with a laugh.
“What did I tell you, it’s a dangerous sport for someone so… soft,” his eyes raked appraisingly over your curves as he said it.
You were so disappointed over your failure that you didn’t notice Pierrot’s bells jingling in distress as he gripped your hand. Not until you felt his lips wrapping around your finger. He sucked at your finger tip, his tongue caressing the pad of it in a way that seemed excessively lewd. You turned your gaze back to him, eyes round with shock.
He pulled you, cradling your body against him as he folded himself practically in half to suck on your finger, until he backed against the pile of crates that Harlequin had been leaning on. You looked up into Harlequin’s face and his entire body tensed, his eyes creased in concern, until he saw you looking. His face relaxed into that wide grin.
“Oh no, did you hurt yourself,” his tone turned mocking.
Pierrot glared at him for a second as he sat on one of the lower crates and pulled you into his lap. He cradled you against him as he sucked on your fingertip.
“Pierrot, really, I’m ok.”
“Oh you better let him take care of it, dear,” Harlequin’s voice moved closer. “Wouldn’t want to send you to the Doctor with an injury, would we?”
You tilted your head back to look at Harlequin at the top of the pyramid of crates. He was watching with something like anger and something like joy warring in his obsessed eyes.
You shook your head at him and turned to Pierrot. You cupped his chin with your hand and tilted so he would look at you.
“Pierrot, let me see. I’m sure it’s not bad.”
He looked hurt as he slid his lips off of your finger and let you examine your own wounds. You had a brief glance at a line carved deep into the tip of your finger from the first knuckle before Harlequin grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand up to his mouth. He had moved without you noticing, not even jostling the crates he leaned across, to lay on his stomach and drape his torso towards you. His mask cracked open and his toxic green tongue slid out to wrap around your injury. Pierrot started to stand and you felt the shake of the pyramid of crates as he moved.
Harlequin took your finger from his lips and smirked at Pierrot.
“Careful. Wouldn’t want the crates to fall on our favorite breakable toy, would we? Why don’t you make yourself useful and check for other injuries.”
Pierrot glared once more before turning his attention back to you.
“What injur- Pierrot!” You interrupted yourself with an embarrassed shriek as Pierrot ran his tongue down the lifeline on the palm of your hand.
His tongue pressed into the divot at the center, in between the tiny bones where it tickled to be stroked. You let out a small gasp of a moan. And watched your monster’s eyes flash with heat at the sound.
Harlequin wrapped his venomous tongue around a second finger, stroking up and down them as you lay back against the crates. Pierrot ran his tongue up your arm, his hands skimming over your body. He was holding back because Harlequin was here. He always did. Harlequin would never do the same. Pierrot being here made Harlequin more bold if anything. More willing to risk your anger just to get you to make the lewdest sounds he could conjure from you. You felt your core stirring with heat, winding tighter, as Harlequin’s tongue flicked between your fingertips, spreading your fingers into a V.
“Like I said, you are so soft. So breakable. We really ought to check you for injuries before the good Doctor gets back. Wouldn’t want him going mad when he locks eyes on you and all your fragility.”
Harlequin spun a knife into his hand and let it dangle in front of your face, close enough that you felt yourself going crossed eyed to watch the tip of it. And then it sliced through your shirt, cutting away the fabric like it was nothing and leaving a thin welt of red where the tip had grazed you. Not enough to draw blood of course. But enough to make you whimper.
“There’s my favorite sound in the world,” Harlequin’s laughter was maniacal.
Pierrot took the moment of Harlequin’s distraction to tug you away and spin you in his lap so that your back was only held up over empty air by his arms. He curled over you, shielding your bare chest from Harlequin’s view as he ran his tongue over the red welt line of your graze. You hummed a moan as his tongue dipped between your breasts, right where you knew your heart was. You watched his eyes open wider, watched the fanaticism that took him over sometimes cover his features.
“Don’t hog her all to yourself, Pierrot,” Harlequin growled.
You felt hands around your ankles, pulling you upside down. Your knees bent over the crates, your head dangled just above the crate Pierrot sat on. Pierrot scooped you again, holding your weight so the blood didn’t drain into your head. You saw him give a disapproving shake of his head to Harlequin.
And then he bowed his head to yours.
You would never get used to kissing them. To the tongue that probed your mouth like they used any appendage they could to fuck into any channel you would give them access to. To the teeth that were razor sharp threats that could tear your own tongue if you delved too greedily into their own mouths. To the whimpering moans from Pierrot as he kissed you with a passion reserved for drowning men drawing in fresh air.
His tongue fucked into your throat and you moaned around it, hollowing your cheeks to suck it sinfully. He blushed every time you did it. You did it every time he kissed you. You ran your tongue down the center line of his, flicking against it like you would against his delicious cock. He whined, like a pathetic creature begging for a treat, and you reached for the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, tangling your fingers in his white hair.
You felt the hands on your shorts, tugging at the elastic. Jester was going to be so mad they ruined another outfit. You felt the shorts get pulled to your knees, held up by one hand while the other traced over your thighs.
“So soft,” Harlequin growled as he squeezed the flesh of your thigh.
You could feel your clit twitching, feel your pulse thrumming through it as Harlequin’s claws got closer to your cunt and as Pierrot’s hands wandered over your tits, squeezing them and pinching your nipples between the points of his claws. You moaned into his open mouth and felt his shiver of delight. Harlequin’s touch grew bolder, his knee pressing between yours to hold up your shorts as both hands wandered, squeezing the fat on your thighs and spreading your slit. You could feel his hot breath, the tips of his forked tongue prodding at you.
You tried to spread your legs wider, tried to open for him, only to be trapped by your shorts pinned between your knees. You sucked harder on Pierrot’s tongue, opening your eyes to see his roll back as his mouth fell open until he was panting. You sucked and licked along his tongue, watching his body tremble and his hips buck.
“He’s so easy,” Harlequin teased, his words drawing trails of goosebumps over your stomach.
You looked up to meet his eyes. He was watching with his gaze narrowed and his sole focus on you. You felt the heat and ice of his attention. You squirmed under his hands. Without losing eye contact with you he bent his head and opened his mouth to curl his tongue under your clit and suck it between his lips.
Your eyes closed as you gave a soul shattering moan, your body plucked like a vibrating string as your monsters played with you. You let your mouth fall open, your moan ringing louder as Harlequin thrust his tongue inside of you, fucking into you. You heard Pierrot’s whimper of need, felt his shaking hands grip your breast and tweak your nipples. Felt his gentle, begging kisses along the column of your throat. And then you cascaded into an orgasm that left you seeing dancing stars in Pierrot gold and Harlequin green.
They were arguing while your ears were still ringing, Harlequin’s voice mocking and Pierrot’s bells jingling louder than his hoarse whispers. You felt yourself moving, felt the shorts being stripped off of you, and heard the rustle of fabric. Your eyes half opened to see Pierrot. All of Pierrot.
You groaned and wrapped yourself around him, desperate to crave him, to cradle him. He’d been so shocked the first time you saw his monstrous form and begged to touch it. And now he couldn’t get enough of you seeing him. All of him. Everything that he was under the costume and mask. You were so tight around him, stretching for his tip like you did every time, even with your cum slicked entrance. He whined as he bucked against you, trying desperately to fit even just his tip inside of you. You relaxed, letting yourself fall limp in his arms as he bounced you on his lap. You felt hands, cruel hands that dug pointed tips into your cheeks and chin, grip you and tilt you face up.
You saw the green eyes and green tongue in a mask split in a vile grin.
“You’re a monster, the way you control us like this,” Harlequin hissed. His tongue traced over your lips and you opened your mouth to give him access.
He tasted like your cum. Pierrot had cooked every day so that your cum would taste sweeter, by general consensus, and oh hell were you reaping the reward, tasting yourself on Harlequin as he fucked his tongue into your mouth. He swept around the inside of your mouth, drawing occult shapes that could have broken your mind if anyone else had done it. He let the slit of his tongue rub against the tip of yours, grinding on you like Pierrot was grinding your wet slit against his cock. You heard the desperate grunts of your Pierrot’s naked pleasure while Harlequin mimicked his movements in your mouth.
And then.
Sweet ecstasy as Pierrot finally slipped inside of you. A moan like a release from prison echoed from his mouth and yours. He bent his head, finding his place on your shoulder to rest his forehead as he ground into you, his tip tugging at you now that he was inside. Once he was hard and inside of you it was so difficult to take him out. And that was half the fun. The tug on your cunt as he pulled, the way you gripped him tighter and he was stuck inside of you. The way you knew he could never leave you.
Harlequin’s tongue fucked into your throat while you sighed and rocked your hips, rubbing your clit against the shaft of Pierrot’s painfully long cock. You would be here for hours if he wanted to fill you up, if he wanted to sit you all the way down on his lap. You almost wanted that. To be his cock warmer for hours until he could slam you up and down his cock and make you feel every inch of him.
He had things to do though. It was a new city.
You pulled your mouth away from Harlequin, watching his eyes narrow in a murderous glare as you looked down at your desperate monster.
“Fuck me, Pierrot. Fill me. Give me your cum. Cum for me.” You pleaded, your hands wrapping around his sensitive horns and stroking.
He screamed a moan as he pulled you down until you couldn’t take more and then released you. He used you. He wrapped his hands around your waist and thrust into you while he bounced you on his cock.
You reached up and grabbed Harlequin, pulling his lips back against yours in a bloody mash of teeth and tongue as you kissed him desperately. Desperate to keep any cries of pain from Pierrot. Desperate to feel his tongue fuck your throat so violently that you could cum again wrapped around Pierrot’s cock.
Harlequin hummed as he complied, as his tongue violated your mouth in a way that would make experienced whores blush. He’d always been the biggest slut in the circus and you loved him for it. You loved him for what he could do to you with his tongue.
He had you coming on Pierrot’s cock in no time. And Pierrot did not last long once your walls squeezed around his cock and milked him for his own orgasm.
He panted against you, his head in the crook of your neck as he spasmed and shivered. You stroked Harlequin’s cheek and pulled your own shivering lips from him to comfort Pierrot. You kissed the top of his head, his forehead, his cheeks. You tilted his face up to kiss his slackjawed mouth as he hummed his love for you in a million half formed words.
“You ought to go get cleaned up, Pier. Jester will be looking for you.”
He was so distraught while you peppered him with kisses and told him that you would be in his tent after the show. That you would love him while he was gone. That you loved him now. That he could teach you to throw knives until you got it right.
He gave one last glare to Harlequin as you leaned back, naked, on the crate he’d left you on. You watched as Pierrot straightened his disguise and gave you a last longing look before he ducked out of the tent. Just in time for Jester to call his name.
“Now… are you just going to use me for my tongue?” Harlequin’s voice carried a trace of malice as he looked down at where you lay, Pierrot’s cum still leaking out of you.
“Checking me for injuries was your idea. Come down here if you have a new one. I can’t move.”
His laugh was low and dangerous.
“Oh you can. And you will.”
