The Marks of June

Jezebel was bound and hung from a tree. She hadn't been sleeping, not exactly, but she emerged from a low, vibing trance as sunlight began to peek over the distant horizon. The campfire below her, which had baked her skin and stained it gray with long tendrils of smoke, had burned down to embers. She released her bladder, showering the ground below, evoking soft hisses where she aced the coals. "How're you feeling up there?" said a voice from below. Jezebel flexed within her bindings. Her legs were bent and tightly spread, exposing her delta. Her arms were crossed behind her back, patiently immobilized. Her tits were framed, but not restricted, free to sway when the wind caught her and set her gently twirling. For the little she could move, she felt no more than the expected discomfort. She was suspended from more than a dozen points beneath the central line, her weight evenly distributed across the long hours up on the tree. "I'm okay, Will," she replied. "Ready to descend, I think." "I'll fetch Ken," he called back, a little trill in his tone belying his eager anticipation. She wasn't quite sure how they'd come around to this ritual. After losing Escuz, Jezebel had slipped into such a deep haze of anger and regret that it had taken literally separating her from the earth and letting her hang there until she'd emptied herself of sorrow and found her way back to herself, free of rage. A year later, they repeated the process as a precautionary measure, and again the next. This was her fifth time up in the tree, their process refined but little altered, with one notable wrinkle: she and Will had made a choice and now they had to see it through. Kenda emerged from the woods, a few steps ahead of Shuhui. They'd set up their tent a little way out of earshot, to as not to disturb her peace with their revelry and it didn't look like either of them had gotten any sleep tonight, either. Shuhui had on a threadbare t-shirt and some ratty shorts, but Kenda hadn't bothered—she was naked and barefoot, hips swinging, chest scars proudly on display. In all the ways that Shuhui was sculpted, graceful, and slender, Kenda was stacked, thick, and sturdy, but the both of them shared a penchant for intense tenderness that made Jezebel fall apart in their hands. "Will is taking a dip in the river, then he'll be along," said Shuhui. "Would you like us to keep you company until then?" Kenda chuckled at Shuhui's offer in a way that made Jezebel's cunt instantly flare, rendering her unable to respond with anything more than a nod and a shy smile. It was Kenda who knew the ropes best, although she'd taught them all a thing or two. This suspension was of her own design, one thoroughly revised to ensure that each time was more comfortable than the last—unless she was intending to inflict pain—so that Jezebel could stay up on the tree longer and longer without harm. The fire directly below, on the other hand, had been Shuhui's idea. She poked at the dregs while Kenda began to undo loops and knots at the tree trunk, covering it over with a bucket of nearby ashes and then sliding a stone lid over the top, making sure none of them could accidentally step (or be dropped) into the fire pit. Jezebel's descent began with sharp tug and a sudden drop, unsettling the ropes from their grooves and causing them to bite into her skin anew when Kenda caught her weight on the pulley. She'd only fallen a matter of inches, but Jezebel had to bite her lip to keep from crying out in both pleasure and alarm. From there, she sank more slowly, mirroring the climb of the morning sun that broke through the canopy above, coming to a halt only a few feet above the ground. Shuhui was there to greet her. She took Jezebel's face in her hands and leaned in to give her a deep, yearning kiss. After so many hours away from the touch of anything but air, fire, and rope, her soft lips were decadent and luxurious, a delicacy of unimaginable value, and here she was, giving it freely. Jezebel's mouth opened and let her tongue inside, a sufficiently occupying invasion that she did not notice Kenda approach until the very moment her tongue pierced the folds of her cunt. Jezebel bounced like a yo-yo, but the other two held her in place, kept her steady, prevented her from spinning out of control. That was always the way, with them. Will was her rock, but these two were her anchors. Shuhui slid her hands down, over her shoulders and below, cupping her dangling tits and pinching her by the nipples even as Kenda worked her tongue up and down and deeper and further, encouraging her cunt, already wet and swollen, to fully unfurl. Kenda moved her own hands, too, kneading along Jezebel's thighs before coming to rest on the curves of her ass, spreading her ever wider—even though she was already bound and spread as wide as she could go. Anchor though she may be, Kenda always loved to push Jezebel up to the edge and often past her limits. How else could she find where her real limits were, she liked to say. Still bound and long overstimulated, Jezebel was rapidly approaching one such limit when Will returned, dripping with river water, as uninhibited in his nakedness as Kenda. Shuhui, seeing him arrive, stepped back, disengaging from Jezebel's lips and tits, and all but tore off her own meager coverings. She danced over to Will and wrapped her arms around him, leaning up to favor him with a sweeter—but no less invasive—kiss. "Are you ready?" she asked him, when they pulled apart at last. Will laughed. "You're acting like I've never done this before," he deflected. "In a way, you haven't," said Shuhui. "Not the last part, anyway." Jezebel would have offered her own commentary on the situation, but Kenda hadn't let up behind her, leaving her dumbstruck and bobbling. Will moved around and placed a hand on Kenda's back, stroking gently along her spine, while Shuhui returned to her place at Jezebel's head. She took Jezebel by the chin, this time, and lifted her mouth up to meet her cunt. Jezebel lapped greedily, devouring her with a hunger that could never be satisfied by anything but more of exactly this. "Ready or not," announced Kenda, "she's ready for you." Jezebel heard Kenda pop Will's cock into her mouth. She imagined the familiar sight of her running her broad tongue up and down his shaft, preparing him just that little bit more for what was about to come. Then, Jezebel felt the familiar presence of Will's cock, its head finding purchase at the entrance of her cunt, crossing her threshold, and coming home. She groaned into Shuhui's cunt and kept groaning, louder and louder, as Shuhui stepped away, stumbling backwards into Kenda's waiting arms—goodness but she could move quickly when she wanted to—and settling in to simply watch the show. Will took her with practiced thrusts, pressing his palms into her raised calves, letting her thighs push him away each time he bottomed out. Suspended as she was, she became a pendulum, adding extra momentum to every plunge, making him feel sharper and harder inside her than he ever could unassisted. This much was familiar. This had been how every past time had ended, the culmination of their ritual, first the hanging, then the nailing, and then the letting go. It was a violent meditation, an act of deliverance, but it was also just violence, an act of penance. Except this time, it was more than that. It would, light willing, be an act of creation. Jezebel had stopped taking birth control two months ago and this was the first time Will had put his cock inside her since. They weren't just fucking: they were making a baby. "Oh, fuck," she moaned, as Will pressed faster and harder. "Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh, fuck." She searched for Shuhui and Kenda. They hadn't moved. They were right there, by her side, supporting each other, hand-in-hand. They smiled at her and all her fears melted away. They were with her till the end and they would be there for any child of hers until they met their ends. None of them would ever be left alone. Jezebel closed her eyes. Wise and dazzling golden eyes stared back at her. Escuz was gone, but he was always with her. He did not stir her up the way Thusia had, didn't make her mad with lust, but his lingering presence weighed upon her just as heavily. That was why she needed to be bound. That was why she needed to be punished. Jezebel closed her inner eyes. There, behind the golden curtain, beyond the event horizon, feral and burning orange eyes still stared into the deepest part of her soul, filling her up with secret fire and endless need. That was why she needed to be set free. Silently, suddenly, Will erupted inside of her, pumping his semen towards her womb, thrusting over and over, long after he was finished, as long as he had the strength to keep going. When his energy at last ran out, Shuhui was there to catch him, to take his cock in one hand and to cover Jezebel's cunt with the other, superstitiously ensuring that no seed escaped her. Kenda was there, too. She lifted Jezebel in her arms, releasing her from the pressure of the ropes until Will could recover and lend a hand. Amid their bodies, Jezebel's mind spun. Was she supposed to know when it had happened? She'd heard it said that a mother just knew, but she couldn't tell. Maybe, if there had been a sign, she'd missed it during her own climax—a much more bombastic thing than her husband's, the sort of showy caterwauling that made her glad that they chose to do all this way out in the middle of the woods and not in the comfort of their own backyard, no matter how far away their nearest neighbors lived. "Let's get you untied," whispered Kenda. "Let's get you home." Jezebel didn't argue. She couldn't have if she'd tried. She was a rag doll, left entirely to the mercy of her lovers' care—but they were just so good at caring. She missed the part where Will disconnected her from the central line and retained only glimpses of the walk back to the campsite. Kenda laid her down on a futon that they'd set up in the back of their pickup truck and began surgically and swiftly undoing the ropes. Will broke down the tent and put it in the cab. Shuhui drove them home. Sheltering together in the back of the truck, Kenda rubbed down Jezebel's skin, easing away her worries, bringing her deadened senses back to life. Wherever her warm fingers did not touch, the cool morning air whipped by, soothing her in its own, harsher but equally pleasant way. At some point, she fell asleep, maybe, but only long enough to truncate the journey out of the wilderness and back into the countryside. They'd moved out here a couple years back, after the suburbs began to feel like too small and oppressive a box in which to fit the expanding sphere of their family. Officially, only three of them lived in the big house—Jezebel, Will, and Shuhui—although Kenda was a permanent fixture. She maintained an apartment closer to town, but only because it was over her workshop and allowed her to get some rest when she worked late into the night at the forge or rose too early for sense. Domingo stayed with them whenever he was in the country, but that wasn't very often, these days. Jezebel wondered if that might change once there was a baby in the house. Jezebel roused and discovered that she was once again cradled in Kenda's strong arms. They were home, going up the stairs and heading into the master bath. Kenda set her on her feet on the tile while Will started the shower and Shuhui lathered up a sponge. They washed her together, six hands moving across her fire-scorched and rope-branded skin, cleansing her with soap and nursing her with oils and healing her with their love. Soon enough, their mouths began to follow the routes previously traced by their hands, easing the aches of her ravaged muscles and tired bones. Each of them were drawn to their favorite places, Shuhui sucking on her tits, Kenda back to nibbling at her cunt, and Will sliding his tongue up into her asshole. Overwhelmed and compromised, Jezebel could not hold back, and readily climaxed under their attentions. Changing places in rotation, they brought her to two more wracking orgasms before they let her rest—but still they did not let her go. They held her up beneath the streaming water, letting her rinse until she truly felt clean. When the world un-blurred, Jezebel was outside again. She was naked—not particularly strange, but still notable—and lounged on a wooden-slat chaise in the light of the midday sun at the edge of their garden. It didn't take her long to find the others. Will, from the sounds and smells coming from the kitchen, was making lunch. Shuhui and Kenda lay in the grass, just as naked as she was, Shuhui with her face buried in a book, Kenda with her face buried between Shuhui's legs. Leg, rather. Shuhui had discarded her prosthetic, as she often did when they were at home. Even with the best of rehabilitative science at her disposal, it was still more comfortable to have the leg off than on. Jezebel made no sound, so as not to disturb them, but slipped one hand between her legs, softly running her fingertips along the divide of her vulva, holding longest on the hood of her clit. She might think that she'd be satisfied, what with the day's preceding events, but no: never. At least not so long as she held the echo of Thusia inside of her. Were the spirits still her only passengers? Her hand pulled away from her cunt and came to rest on the mound of her belly. She couldn't tell if she was pregnant, but she supposed it didn't much matter. They'd already made their decision, months ago. She and Will were going to have a child. They were going to raise her in this place, with this family that they'd fought so hard to find and keep. This baby was going to be born and was going to be loved like so few children had ever been. The rest? The act of impregnation? That was just follow-through. Will combed his fingers through her hair. "How're you feeling down there?" he asked. The repetition was his idea of humor—and it never failed to make her laugh. "I'm okay," she repeated. "Ready, I think." He crouched beside her, kissed her on the cheek, and placed his own soft hand on her belly. "Everything's going to change, you know," he remarked. "Not everything, I hope," she countered. To punctuate the idea, she put her hand over his and slid it down between her legs. "You're incorrigible, you know that?" he asked, glibly. "I do," she sighed. "I really, really do." They sat like that for a little while, letting the warmth of him spread through her. When it became clear that he was going to have to either stop before she got any more engorged or else lunch was going to get cold, he drew back. "Hey, you two," he called over to the lovers in the grass. "Mother is awake and food is on the table." "Did you just call me 'mother?'" Jezebel snapped. "I was trying it out," he admitted. "And?" she pressed. "I hated it," he grunted. "I'll never do it again." He kissed her on the top of her head and went back inside. Kenda and Shuhui approached, arms criss-crossed to support their three-legged movement—although Jezebel guessed that Shuhui would've been a bit wobbly even with her prosthetic on, what with the deep-tonguing she'd so recently and so thoroughly received. Kenda dipped her partner like a dancer, bringing her within kissing distance, a favor which Jezebel happily obliged, bringing their lips together with a giggle of delight. Shuhui's teeth clung to Jezebel's bottom lip as Kenda righted her, just a little nip that promised harder pleasures to come. "Easy, girl," admonished Kenda. "She's pregnant, not dying." "We don't know that," Jezebel cautioned. Kenda shrugged. "Call it woman's intuition, if you have to," she suggested. "I think it worked." "I agree," said Shuhui. "We should celebrate." "How about lunch, first?" asked Jezebel. "I'm famished." Kenda proffered her free hand to Jezebel, helping her up off the chaise. Perhaps she was less recovered than she thought, as she lost her balance and fell into the two of them, though they caught her in what became a tight hug. It was almost painful to let them let her go, their skins pressed together in the sunlight, three bodies at rest. "What are we having, anyway?" queried Shuhui, graciously breaking the rapidly-building tension. "Quiche!" Will called from the kitchen. "Seriously?" coughed Kenda. "You're cooking eggs on the day you got your wife pregnant?" Will laughed slyly, owning nothing and suggesting everything. They sat around the dining table, one on each side, and Will served them their plates. There was sparkling wine for the others and sparkling water for Jezebel—a preemptive measure that she'd adopted around the same time that she'd taken out her IUD. The three women didn't need or bother to hide their nakedness, not in this house. There were furs on the dining chairs that kept them cosy and warm. Will didn't undress to match their libertine attire—there would be plenty of opportunity for that when the need arose. "Okay, I take it back," said Kenda, halfway through her plate. "This is really fucking good quiche. This is so good that I'm gonna fuck you silly, later." "You say that like you weren't already going to do that," Shuhui shot across the table. "Oh, it was a definite possibility," she shot back. "A likelihood, even. But now it's a goddamned guarantee." Jezebel locked eyes with her husband across the table, wordlessly seeking reassurance. Not about Kenda—it had been more than a decade since they'd have needed to discuss that—but about the potential addition to their family that maybe, possibly grew inside her even now. He was always checking in with her, always making sure that she was okay, always giving her what she needed, no matter the apparent cost to him. He swore he gave himself to her willingly—they all did—but she couldn't help but worry, sometimes, that she'd forced the world to revolve around herself because of a quirk of fate. She wasn't a chosen one. She wasn't even special. She was just a bit broken and for some reason he loved her anyway. "Hey," said Will, interrupting Shuhui and Kenda's repartee. "I love you. It's going to be okay. We're going to be okay." "Damn right we are," added Kenda. Shuhui frowned at her. "Sorry," she appended. "Y'all were having a moment." Jezebel reached forward, putting one hand in Kenda's and the other in Shuhui's. "Don't be sorry, my loves," said Jezebel. "You don't ever need to be sorry. I'm just scared. I'm terrified. And I..." She trailed off, losing her nerve. Where had all her bravery gone? She could face down beasts and spirits but cowered at her own heart? If she couldn't be honest with her family, what was the point of her? "Go ahead," Shuhui encouraged. "We're listening." "I'm frightened that this was a terrible idea," Jezebel blurted, emptying the contents of her carefully locked-away anxieties. "We don't know what the future holds. They're coming back at Christmas and if it's worse than last time then who knows if I'll make it back alive. I'm terrified that I made this decision for everyone and then I'm just going to get taken away and you're going to be stuck with the consequences of my selfishness." "Sweetie, no," Shuhui murmured. "Remember who we are. We're with you till the end. You know this." She did know this. She'd known it this morning, during the ritual, and after. But fear had a funny way of twisting up what was true and what was possible, what things might be if they weren't what they were. Sometime between then and now, she'd forgotten, and that little spark of doubt was rapidly consuming her. "Babes," said Kenda, "if I could've put a baby in Shu, I already would've done so. You are literally the only one of us who can healthily bear a child, so don't think you're the only one getting anything out of this. This baby won't just be yours, it'll be all of ours." "A child is a burden," Will remarked, "but it is also a gift. That duality is something you know better than any of us. You've seen and done such remarkable things. You have, without hyperbole, saved the world—and you have paid a heavy price for it. We don't love you because you're broken, we love you because you are more than your wounds." How did he always know what she was thinking, even when she didn't say it out loud? "I can't imagine losing you," said Shuhui. "And I don't care what I have to do or what bedeviled pacts I have to sign—yes, I know it doesn't work like that, you get my point—I will hunt anyone or anything that takes you away from me to the very ends of the earth, but I'll never abandon our child. Never. You will be a part of her—or him—and I will love them just as much as I love you, maybe even more." Jezebel didn't know when exactly she started crying, but she had. She let go of Shuhui and Kenda's hands so that she could wipe away her tears. When she had, staring in the vicinity of her mostly-finished plate of food, she noticed something different about the table: someone had drilled a pair of holes, each one a bit wider than her thumb, in parallel spots a few inches in from the corners of the table. She assumed they were a fresh addition, since she'd never noticed them before and they ate at this table most every day, but they'd been carefully sanded and refinished to match the rest of the table. "What are those?" she asked, innocently pointing out the holes. Kenda practically leapt up from the table, ducking into the foyer to retrieve something from her bag. "I'll clear the plates," said Will, duty-bound. "Hang on," said Shuhui. She wolfed the last few bites of her slice of quiche, popping a final slice of melon in her mouth unnecessarily suggestively before waving at him to continue on. Kenda returned brandishing a curious selection of objects. The first was recognizably a blocky steel-headed mallet, innocuous enough on its own, but the other two items called its purpose into question. They were rods of rough-textured iron, each more than a foot long and straight as anything from one end to the other, except that at one end they hooked like a cane, vaguely reminding Jezebel of a crowbar, only not quite. "Put your wrist there," Kenda directed, pointing at a spot just inside of one hole. Jezebel wasn't great at following orders as a general rule, but she trusted her companions. She laid her hand flat on the table, wrist down, right where Kenda had said. Quick as anything, Kenda slipped one of the cruel-looking bars, rod end first, into the hole, settling the hook neatly over Jezebel's wrist. She noticed now that the hook tapered and doubled back into a squarish foot, which butted against the surface of the table. Kenda hit the top of the bar with her mallet, an alarmingly firm whack that rang out like a high piano key, and it shifted almost imperceptibly into place. Her wrist was unharmed and unrestricted, but the space between the iron and the wooden table was too narrow for her to slip her hand through. She tested her strength against the iron and the iron won. Jezebel was shackled, simple as that. Whatever, oh whatever was she to do. Shuhui, on the pretense of holding Jezebel's free hand, held her wrist steady while Kenda whacked the other holdfast into place, binding her in place completely. "When did you—?" Jezebel inquired, amused and befuddled. "Yesterday morning, while you and Will were getting ready," Kenda explained. "But I've been planning this one for a while. I'd just been waiting for a suitable occasion. I think T-minus nine months—give or take—to the birth of our first child is good enough, don't you?" "Ken, can you fetch my leg?" asked Shuhui. "I'm going to need it and she's not going anywhere." Kenda barked a satisfied laugh. "No, she absolutely fucking isn't," she cackled. "I'll be right back." "Leather or skin?" asked Shuhui, directing this question to Jezebel. Jezebel's nostrils flared as she began to comprehend the eventualities of her current predicament. "Leather first," she selected. "Then skin." "Get my gloves, too!" Shuhui called out to Kenda, who'd disappeared to wherever they'd left Shuhui's leg. "The nice ones!" Jezebel arched an eyebrow. "It's a celebration, sweetie," Shuhui explained. "I have no intention of being anything but nice to you, today." As if to prove her point, she leaned across the table, tits swaying invitingly as she stretched herself over the short distance, and locked her lips over Jezebel's, skimping on neither tongue nor teeth. Jezebel mewled into her mouth, feeling herself go from comfortably aroused to uncomfortably drenched in a matter of seconds. They'd have to get the furs cleaned again. Will and Kenda returned at roughly same time, her carrying Shuhui's prosthetic and gloves, him carrying Jezebel's padded bench, each of them always so happy to provide assistance. Kenda held Shuhui steady as she pulled the leg into its socket and massaged the connection point while Shuhui adjusted and put on her gloves. Will helped Jezebel up out of the chair and held her center as she lowered her knees onto the well-loved leather, making certain that she never slipped or tugged her arms too far from where they were pinned. Compared to her ritual binding, it was exactly as nice a position to find herself in as Shuhui had claimed. She couldn't move from this spot, yes, but nothing restricted her flesh. Her knees were generously cushioned, easily holding her weight. The wood beneath her wrists was smooth and supple, both hard and soft in that peculiar way that wood could be when it was treated with care. If she closed her eyes—the judgment of golden eyes aside—she could almost imagine that she was in this position out of volition rather than compulsion. Somehow, the conceit of freedom made her feel that much more vulnerable. Her tits hung towards the earth, just as they had when she was strung up in the tree, but rather than one with nature, they felt like a dangerous liability. Anyone who wanted to could just reach out and grab them and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. Her cunt was actually significantly less exposed than it had been in the ropes, but half-hidden between her thighs felt like no meaningful protection at all when her ass was served up for the taking. Even knowing what they had in mind for her—the gist of it, anyway—even knowing that she was entirely safe in this house with these, the parents of her future child, her imagination whirled with perilous, delicious fantasies. Jezebel barely felt Shuhui's first blow upon her ass. It was a mere kiss of leather, a hint of contact, a lover's breath. Shuhui's second blow cracked like lightning, momentarily knocking the wind out of Jezebel's lungs, such that her scream of shock and joy was delayed a few counts: one one thousand, two one thousand, thunder. Shuhui bided her time, waiting for the aftershocks of Jezebel's near-orgasm to settle before she struck a third time and then a fourth and then too many times for Jezebel to keep count, alternating cheeks, high and then low, near and far from her tender folds, softer and then harder and then harder still in an ever-flowing crescendo. She was crying again. Drooling, too. She didn't care. They'd seen her in worse states than this and they loved her anyway. They would see her in far worse states, she presumed, in the months to come. From what her mother had told her when she was a child, she hadn't been an easy pregnancy—and such traumas tended to pass down through generations. The force of Shuhui's spanking began to ebb, drawing down from something like a summer hailstorm to something more like a spring rain, and then, after a momentary interruption and the sticky peeling sound of damp leather, her bare palms at last fell on Jezebel's reddened ass. That put her over the edge and her body began to rock, testing the strength of both the bench and her bindings, but Shuhui wasn't finished. She fell to her own knees and drew her tongue along the slick split of her ass, circling around her pulsing hole and dragging further down to the now only barely hidden mound of her cunt. Jezebel spread her knees as wide as the bench would allow, begging Shuhui to come inside. Shuhui, as promised, did the nicest thing she could and rammed her tongue past the lips of her vulva and, immediately thereafter, followed her tongue's lead with three long fingers. Her back arched, shifting her field of view, and Jezebel noticed for the first time that Will and Kenda hadn't been standing idly by, enjoying their fine display of consensual debauchery. At some point in the intervening minutes, Kenda had stripped Will of his garments and tied his arms behind his back with what looked suspiciously like off-cuts from their ritual rope. Now she was leading him up onto the dining table and settling him into a kneeling position, legs spread and cock raised, his tip slick with a stream of pre-ejaculate. "Whoa," Jezebel cautioned, the moment she realized that Kenda was climbing up onto the table after Will. "Is that going to hold?" "Don't worry, babes," Kenda admonished. "Clara built this table and she and I tested it thoroughly. It could hold a dancing elephant and never buckle." She swung herself around to face Will on the table, conveniently shoving her ass in Jezebel's face, inconveniently holding it just a smidge out of reach. When she began to wiggle it in time with the stroke of her hands on Will's cock, Jezebel realized she was doing it on purpose. Bitch. Kenda giggled, knowing in that uncanny way she always had that Jezebel had gotten the joke and that there wasn't a fucking thing she could do about it. As a reward to herself, she shoved Will's cock down her throat. The subsequent sound of her gagging made Jezebel's cunt do a somersault, which pushed Shuhui to redouble her efforts, adding a fourth finger and popping her other thumb into Jezebel's ass, just for good measure. Gazing hungrily into the hypnotic pink of Kenda's cunt, Jezebel could almost forget that she—that all of them—were currently teetering at the peak of a roller coaster's big drop and that things could only go down from here. But, like all good amusements, they would end up where they began, full of joy and anticipation for their next great adventure. Or, more succinctly: fucking. Kenda spun herself around and rose to her full height, straddling Will and holding her ass just above his head, letting him lift up his mouth to snack on her cunt—the very pleasure she had denied Jezebel. In fairness, only Shuhui had promised to be nice to her, today. Kenda's forms of kindness so often took a more circuitous route. Such as, in this case, treating Jezebel to a full view of her husband's body, on his knees and bound as much as she, as much at Kenda's mercy as she was at Shuhui's. His cock strained for relief and he was, if she didn't know better, unlikely to be any further from his next orgasm that she was from hers, although she was already several climaxes ahead, if they were keeping score. With frankly unbelievable self control, balancing herself with only her core, Kenda squatted down, dropping her cunt right onto Will's cock. He moaned, low and raw, as she began to hump against him, jerking herself up and down with powerful thighs, only now planting her hands on the table beside his ankles, arching her back against him and giving Jezebel an entirely unobstructed view of the way his cock slid and out of her. She watched him tense and throb and she knew that he had emptied himself inside of Kenda, but she kept on going, relentless, pushing well past the point that the milky trails of his semen were forced out from between her lips, dripping over his balls and onto the table. Jezebel felt long, wet-slick fingers wrap around her throat, dragging her head back and out of comfortable view of the lovers on the table. Shuhui's lips drew close enough to nibble on her ear and she whispered huskily, so quietly that only Jezebel could hear. "I get the feeling that you're not paying as much attention to me as you should be," she lamented. "Not that I can blame you—Ken's a hell of a thing to behold. But I'm thinking maybe I should break my promise. Maybe I shouldn't be nice to you, anymore." She tugged at the holdfasts, but they weren't any more likely to release her hands than Kenda was likely to release Will's cock. If her hands were free, she could show Shuhui just how much she appreciated her tender, loving care. Instead, she just said: "Nuh-uh," as petulantly as she could manage. Shuhui's composure shattered and she giggle-cried into Jezebel's neck, showering her with kisses from her cheek to her shoulder. "All right then," she relented. "Nice it is." Jezebel was unprepared for the ferocity of the spanking that followed. Her ass was already hot and tender from its recent discipline, but Shuhui was having none of it. She knew just how far Jezebel could be pushed—she'd pushed her there too many times before to pretend otherwise—and she was ready to take her all the way to that limit. Perhaps unconsciously, she matched the speed and force of her hits to Kenda's movements on the table, bringing her hand down every time Kenda's hips fell, digging deep into Jezebel's ass-flesh every time Kenda bottomed out on Will's cock. You could call it a race, but whoever finished first, they would all win. Kenda collapsed forward, finally giving in to the need to catch her breath, only a few heartbeats before Shuhui sank to her knees, arms burning almost as much as Jezebel's ass. Will, for his part, looked pretty well fucked silly, based on the size of the pool of mingled fluids that flooded the table between his legs, not to mention the fact that he seemed to barely be able to keep his eyes open, let alone stay upright. "Switch?" asked Shuhui. "Switch," Kenda agreed. Wait, what? Jezebel could barely follow the movements that spun around her next. Absurdly embracing their second winds, Shuhui and Kenda switched places, Shuhui slipping around to the far end of the dining table behind Will and Kenda crouching down in front of Jezebel, popping up between her outstretched arms. They took some liberties with their specific placements, however, as Shuhui unbound Will's arms and Kenda—producing that steel-head hammer from where, Jezebel couldn't tell you—tapped each of the iron rods and rendering them instantly movable. Tentatively, Jezebel slipped her hands free, only to lose her balance and nearly topple off the bench, had Kenda not caught her under her armpits and hoisted her to her feet. Will seemed to be similarly bad off and he leaned heavily on Shuhui's shoulders as she led him around and into Jezebel's embrace. "Actually, I have a better idea," suggested Kenda. "Let's take them upstairs and give them their presents." "Are you sure?" Shuhui wondered aloud. "Do you think they're ready?" "I don't care if they're ready," Kenda countered. "I think they need it and we're going to give it to them." Will and Jezebel found themselves force-marched up the stairs, to their master bedroom, only to be roughly thrown onto the big bed and callously discarded while Kenda and Shuhui went to retrieve whatever the promised presents were. Jezebel giggled deliriously and put a hand on Will's naked chest as she stretched out, feeling all the ways in which she had been so strenuously loved. "Have we made a mistake?" she asked him, trying not to whimper. He put a hand over hers, holding it against his pounding heart. "No," he said, simply. "I don't think we have." When Kenda and Shuhui returned, they had cocks. Specifically, each of them wore a strap-on harness—all oiled leather and brass buckles—that had been put to its purpose by a large, wooden phallus, held snugly over the mounds of their clits. Shuhui's was smooth and straight and turned from yellow-white, rich-grained oak. In a similar but more unruly fashion, Kenda's was turned from a deep brown, finely-grained walnut, but its shaft bulged in irregular, knotty waves. "These were a custom order from Clara," said Kenda, "and she expects a very particular tip. I've invited her to dinner on Saturday so that we can fulfill our end of the bargain. Sound good?" Jezebel nodded vigorously and saw out of the corner of her eye that Will was doing the same. "Now," said Shuhui, "these are wood. That means once it enters you, it's yours. Got it?" They both nodded again. "But don't worry," Kenda added. "Clara has made it clear that so long as we keep her satisfied, she'll be happy to make as many custom orders as we want." She paused for effect, letting them contemplate all the possibilities of such a standing offer. "With that out of the way," said Kenda, "tits down, asses up. Get to it." Jezebel rolled onto her stomach, happy to comply. She pressed her tits into the bedspread and put her palms flat over her head, keeping her knees folded under her as she presented her ass at a perfect upward angle. Will had taken a slightly different approach and propped himself on hands and knees, keeping his back and his ass flatly parallel to the floor at the perfect height for Shuhui to square up against it. Jezebel watched her brandish a bottle of lube, squeezing out a long stream across the span of Will's ass, letting it dribble down his crack before steadily working it in with her fingers. Kenda gave Jezebel no such courtesy—but then, she didn't need to. Her tongue dove into Jezebel's asshole, which parted gratefully, welcoming the intrusion. Jezebel didn't know if she did it on purpose or not—although she didn't know why she wondered, because of course she did it on purpose—but Kenda slowed the pace of her tonguing just long enough to allow Jezebel to watch Shuhui place the head of her oaken cock against Will's asshole and push inside. He grunted softly, as quiet in his pleasure as he usually was, but his cock bounced merrily, stiffening and drooling all over the duvet. "Your turn," Kenda whispered, suddenly perched at Jezebel's ear. That was all the warning she had. The wood in her ass wasn't quite like anything Jezebel had felt before, not so soft as silicone nor so hard as steel, less cold than either of them but not so quick to warm, either. It was simultaneously organic and inorganic, soft and hard, gentle but unyielding. That was all the way until the first knot, at which point it just got mean. "Green Lady's tits," Jezebel swore into the covers. "Fuck, Kenda, slow down." Kenda did not slow down. She kept pushing, up and over the second knot, causing Jezebel to convulse and writhe, but unable to escape, especially with Kenda's hands pressing firmly into her hips, holding her steady, making her receive her gift. She did stop, but only after cresting the third knot, bringing the skin of her delta to rest against the skin of Jezebel's ass. Jezebel cried out, clinging to the very edge of sanity but not quite able to push herself over into the true madness and release of orgasm. Will, beside her, rocked back and forth as Shuhui built up a steady pace. It hadn't taken more than a few strokes for him to take the full length of her and now she gathered speed, clapping her body against his ass with every thrust, driving relentlessly and without remorse. Jezebel watched Will's cock open up, not even a finger on him, blasting a load of semen onto the covers below. Kenda took that as her signal to start moving again. However mean and nasty she could be, Kenda was never cruel. She had to know that there was no way for Jezebel to take her knotted cock at the same speed as Will took Shuhui's smooth cock, which is why—Jezebel supposed—she landed on a compromise: for every two times Shuhui bottomed out in Will's ass, Kenda only bottomed out once in Jezebel. That was fair, right? She could take it. The orgasm that had eluded Jezebel before arrived in full measure, the first of many. At some point, she reached out and intertwined her fingers with Will's. She didn't exactly remember doing it, but that was how she found herself when the haze of the third or fourth climax lifted, hand in hand with her husband while their lovers reamed the both of their asses in celebration of the likely conception of their first child. Was it enough? Was this life, was this growing family, was this joy enough to justify her survival? Could she ever forgive herself for making it out alive while Escuz stayed behind? Could she ever forget the little fox, turning to ashes in her arms? Kenda spasmed and collapsed, the slamming pressure of the strap-on against her clit finally breaking her will and letting her come. Her warm weight collapsed atop of Jezebel only a moment after she gently extracted the wooden cock from her ass, pulling her down among the soft covers and winding around her like a sun-seeking vine. Shuhui, to Jezebel's ecstatic amusement, had gone fully feral climbing up onto the bed and perching over Will's backside, swinging her ass like a wrecking ball, faster and faster until, with a soft exhale of breath, she stopped moving at all. They hung there, frozen in that moment, for the span of several heartbeats, and then collapsed into a pile atop the other two. Jezebel stared into the endless depths of those golden eyes as she drifted off into a sticky and much-needed afternoon nap. Maybe it wasn't enough, she decided with her fleeting thoughts, but it didn't much matter. They were going to have a baby, whether they deserved it or not, and she was going to be that baby's mother, poor thing. Thank the light for the rest of them—she'd never make it alone.