“Did you like what you heard?”They ask.
Orthia leans back until she is seated fully on my thigh. A tentacle wraps around the holster I’m still wearing and spreads me wide open, exposing my sex and tentacles for all my world to see.
“Please, I want to do all of it.”
“Should I punish you for watching me?” she asks.
“Yes, Captain.”
In a flash, the thumb toying with the tentacles is gone and a harsh smack lands right over my clit. My back bows, the searing heat from her touch and the sensation of the wet slap threaten to be my undoing. Orthia blinks, and her brown eyes look at me with a hunger that could ruin a person, destroy them. She pulls her hand back and only once I nod does she deliver two more slaps. My eyes blur with tears as the stinging bite turns to a raging fire of need inside of me. Her hand glistens when she raises it again and I know it’s because of me. She looks at me as her tongue laps the mess from her fingers.
She hums. “I’m proud of you, wife.”
I break. The words flood me with so much goodness and warmth that I need to come. I can’t remember the last time someone said that to me. My body is already begging for her to do it, to make me shatter into a million pieces. The way my nipples strain against the mesh of this corset and the way my pussy is still leaking, should be enough. Any other person would see this as me being hot and ready for them.
Not Orthia, though.
No, she wants me to beg until my voice gives out. She will not give me an ounce more pleasure until she hears the words. The dagger is still in her hand. Her dry thumb is casually sweeping over the handle of it like she did my clit.
“Captain,” I pout softly. I can’t help myself even if I’m begging. “Fuck me, please. I need your fingers, tentacles, anything inside me. I need it.”
“Is that what you think you deserve? My touch on your divine body until you come apart for me?” Her hand smooths over my stomach and up to my breast. She cups the right one, tracing circles around my nipple while she waits for my answer.
“Ye-” My words turn into a keen as she plucks at them through the fabric. “Yes, I did so well tonight. Please!”
She pinches harder, commanding me without words to add that please onto my little speech. Her movements don’t stop, so neither do I. Words pour from my lips in higher and higher pitches as she moves from my right to my left nipple. They rub against the mesh and her fingers grow wetter, like she is trying to make the slick that Love produces drip from her fingers. It makes my skin tingle and heat. If she keeps this up, I will come anyway before she even gets anything inside of me.
“Please, Orthia, please. I am begging you,” I plead. “Fuck me.”
She smirks, “Good girl. Was that so hard?”
There isn’t time to lavish in her backhanded praise. With her hand still teasing my sore tit, she moves the handle of the knife between my legs.
“Love will restrain you,” she states clearly. “Colour?”
“Green, so green, Captain.”
“Breathe,”Love rumbles.
I don’t know why I am babbling about that, but as tentacles arise from the ether, coated in that sweet juice, I don’t care. Pomegranate fills my lungs the more I gasp. Love wraps around my wrists and slips between my fingers until I can grasp them. Two other tentacles wrap around my thighs and keep them spread open. The short tentacles in my pussy slip out of me and open me up. One slithers between my ass cheeks and suctions onto my hole. A chest-deep moan falls from my lips.
“Don’t cum until I say so,” she commands.
My eyes threaten to roll back into my skull at the press of hot metal. The tentacles inside me provide a slight barrier. I can’t feel the grip on the handle, but the pressure and overwhelming sense of fullness are there. It isn’t as good as Love’s tentacles. I am not sure anything will top those, but as Orthia presses harder into me, when the hilt touches my pelvis, it’s close. The suckers of my tentacles are pressed into my walls, massaging the muscles to keep me loose and as she pulls back, their shiver is like a vibrator touching my goddamn soul.
The moan that rips through me is loud enough to wake the dead. Her eyes never leave mine, though. Orthia stares at me through every thrust of her knife handle into my pussy. They are practically molten with the heat in them. Her body glistens with sweat and slick, her skin changing from tan to teal in places. The shirt she wears covers most of her body from me, but it sways as she rocks against my thigh.
She’s rocking against my thigh.
“Yes, Captain,” I whimper. “Fuck me.”
“Fuck,” she hisses. “Does that turn you on, Delphini? That I’m using your soft, sweet-as-fucking-sin body to make myself come?”
I nod, the words lodged in the back of my throat. It sends a shiver down my spine and makes me clench harder around the knife. When her hand leaves my breast, I cry out. Both at the loss of warmth and in sweet relief. My mind can’t decide which is better, even as the air cools the juices left behind. She leans back to look down at my pussy.
“Do you know what fucking torture it has been? Love telling me how fucking beautiful you look stuffed full, yet never showing me? They took so much pleasure in teasing me with how your pussy sounded.”
“She begged us, and we denied her,”they purr.
