Archive of Our Own

The stage lights were bright and buzzy and Zoey was just a tad overwarm with Mira's thigh pressed flush to her own and Rumi's arm around her shoulder, but who was she to complain?

Those buzzy lights reflected off the camera lenses that ringed the stage, the murmur of the producers watching over them too quiet to hear from where she sat sandwiched between her girls. Not that she was paying attention to them anyways, of course–she had way more important stuff to focus on.

Like the wholesale mutiny her lovely girlfriends were committing right at that very moment.

"–and obviously I would never ask such a thing for myself, of course," the talk-show host lied through his teeth, "–but the fans would love to know: who wears the pants in the relationship?"

The murmur of the audience swelled to a dull roar; several of them gave big obnoxious wolf-whistles.

Luckily, Zoey was nothing if not a smooth operator–a cool cucumber. Like, the coolest. What's cooler than being cool? Ice cold, and that's what she was! She kept a perfectly neutral face and she sat up straight and she definitely didn't call Rumi and Mira huge, subby bottoms on national telev–

"Oh, I do, of course." Rumi flashed that dazzling, fanged grin without a hint of shame. "I'm just so used to leading Huntrix, you know? When we first got together it was a little contentious but… We talked it out and, well. Things sort of… Slipped into place."

What.

The audience reaction was, somehow, even more out-of-pocket than the literal hootin' and hollerin' the original question provoked; a wall of applause (applause! For a lie!) and whistles roared from the indistinct dark behind the cameras. One person shouted, "I knew it!"

And okay, like, maybe Zoey didn't say anything immediately–on account of her flawless media training (which included deflection and subterfuge and all the things Rumi was not doing right now)–but her face must have been loud as hell, because Mira snorted beside her.

"Way to be super literal, Rumi," she laughed, throwing her arm over the seat back; Zoey watched her thumb come to rest just beneath Rumi's ear, on the sensitive skin of her throat. Zoey would've bet her next comically big paycheck that the cameras were too far away to catch Rumi's shiver.

Mira continued, "But what she means to say is, it's me. I wear the pants figuratively, emotionally–" She paused, her smirk interrupted by her teeth sinking into her lip. "Physically. My girls can't get enough of me."

Zoey damn near snapped her neck when she whipped her head around, blinking and dumbfounded. Was her mouth hanging open? God, it was! Mira and Rumi had actually managed to shock her into silence!

"Being the top is tough but somebody has to do it, and I like taking care of my maknae and my leader both."

What the hell were they talking about? Them? Topping anyone?

Rumi huffed a laugh. "Weird, it didn't look like you were wearing the pants last night–"

Mira, shrugging on Zoey's other side: "Hard for you to see anything face down like that, I guess–"

Zoey felt a little like a ping-pong ball, attention bouncing back and forth between her girlfriends.

"Of course I was face down. How else am I supposed to kiss you when you're on your back for me?"

"Was this the kiss before or after you sucked my–"

"Um?"

Oh-kay, so maybe Zoey wasn't cooler than cool. Like, decidedly not cool, actually; her face felt hot, the stage lights having apparently been cranked to a million degrees while Rumi and Mira deceived the legions of fans watching the show. Zoey knew she was blushing to the tips of her ears, but when she spoke–in as normal a voice as she could manage–her girls paused, grinning like sharks.

"Yes, my love?"

"What's up, jagi?"

If they thought busting out the pet names was gonna stop Zoey from putting their business all the way on front street, well–

Dammit.

They were right.

"I don't, uh–" God, why were they looking at her like that–all hot and amused and jeez, they were in public, they knew Zoey couldn't punish them for their bad behavior, oh God, oh God– "We, we're not–isn't that–that's private?"

There was a hysterical giggle building in her chest. Whose idea was it to make Zoey be the voice of reason here? Which one of these two gorgeous, smirking women had come up with this silly little plan?

Which one of them was gonna pay for this?

"Right! Well, ah–" Talk-show Host–who Zoey had almost forgotten about–cleared his throat. When he spoke, she tore her gaze from Mira's smug grin, Rumi's sharp-toothed smirk.

"I suppose we'll never know who really leads in the bedroom," he said after a moment, shuffling his cue cards before he beamed at the cameras. "But we definitely know who follows."

And because Zoey was very brave and strong and patient–because she was patient most of all–she laughed along with Rumi and Mira like she didn't mind that joke one bit.

Like they had gotten away with it.

See, Zoey was being nice.

After they'd gotten off stage, relieved of their mic packs, she'd asked them.

"Anybody wanna explain what just happened?"

But neither of her girls answered; they hummed and they smirked and they went about packing their stuff, and Zoey let them have their silence.

She asked again in the car back, too–

"Soooo? Whose idea was that?"

And Rumi had blinked at her with big brown eyes, faux-confusion pouring from her like Zoey couldn't see her patterns flickering. "Whose idea was what?"

Mira, at least, didn't look her in the face while she acted all innocent; she leaned in and pressed a kiss to the crown of Zoey's head, ignoring Zoey's suspicious gaze and scowl.

"Don't know what you're talking about, Zo."

So Zoey let them have it.

Even on the ride up to the penthouse when she had Rumi pressed against the glass wall of the elevator, tits out and breath fogging Zoey's view of the Seoul skyline–with Mira on her knees beside them of course, hands in her lap like she'd suddenly remembered how to behave–Zoey gave them every last chance to fess up.

"You can tell me, y'know," she'd murmured in Rumi's ear, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck. "I won't even be mad!"

She'd punctuated that statement by digging her fingernails in to the sensitive skin of Rumi's side, and Rumi sucked in a gasp. Zoey heard Mira swallow thickly.

But neither of them fucking answered.

"No? Really?" Zoey's hand dipped below the waistband of Rumi's trousers–because maybe a little teasing would help Rumi remember how to behave–and paused at the gush of slick that greeted her fingertips, the hot, twitching nub of her clit.

"Bold move, y'know. Acting up when you should be begging for it." Her hand retreated, dragging her nails across Rumi's thigh, delighting in her shiver.

"Zoey, I–"

"You what–you wanna tell me who came up with that goofy plan back there?"

Rumi hesitated–and Mira laughed.

"What plan?" she murmured against the knuckles Zoey rested on Rumi's hip. "We just told the people what they wanted to hear."

"You told the people lies, Mir!"

"Or maybe–" Rumi cut in, all breathy and whiny and squirmy, and God, Zoey wanted to pin her down and fuck her right there, "maybe we just–forgot? It's been so long–"

"It's been a week?"

Rumi wiggled her ass, huffing a laugh at the choked noise Zoey made in response.

"Like I said."

"Alright, you know what?" Zoey probably sounded flustered–hopefully not as flustered as she felt, with Rumi grinding on her and Mira nipping and kissing her knuckles. "Fine. Fine. You forgot who's in charge here, huh? Well, don't you worry. I got you, babes."

Rumi's eyes sparkled and Mira stood, brushing herself off when the elevator dinged their arrival. Zoey's girlfriends stepped into the foyer, shedding their clothes down to their underwear as they went–though Zoey dropped only the uncomfortable button up she'd worn for the interview–fully content in the knowledge that they'd won.

That Zoey would just give them what they wanted, like it was that easy.

Like misbehaving had no consequences at all.

Which led them to where they were now.

Not a bad place to be, really; not with the way Mira arched for her, shining with sweat and shaking on her knees, pup hood smushed into the Zoey's sheets as she writhed.

It was a custom design, one that Mira had brought to them herself after she'd casually asked how many pups a handler normally kept (and Zoey had met Rumi's smug, knowing grin with a smirk of her own, though neither let Mira see.) The soft, breathable fabric was a riot of pink and black along the muzzle and jaw, ears pointed tall at the back of her head.

It was also knocked a little askew at the moment with how hard Mira pressed into the bed, but the matching collar around Mira's throat was sitting pretty and the leash that stretched away from it–trailing over her bra and wrapped carefully around her wrists at the small of her back–was warm and pliant in Zoey's hand.

She gave another slow, lazy thrust of the strap she wore over her skirt, tugging Mira's wrists as she did so.

"Taking me so well," she murmured, pausing to admire Mira's whole-body twitch. "Is this all you needed to behave? My cock splitting you open?"

To be honest, she'd half expected Mira to answer her beyond the shudder she gave, arching impossibly harder as she tried to fuck herself back on the strap–so Zoey was surprised when Mira only panted, whining wordlessly.

"Ooooh, good girl."

Across the room, Rumi's patterns flashed gold in the low light.

Zoey giggled, leaning over Mira's back. "Where was all this when the cameras were rolling?"

Still, Mira didn't speak; Zoey hummed, drawing back to give her another long, rolling thrust. She might be newer to puppyplay than Rumi, but Mira could absolutely behave with the right motivation. Zoey pressed into her again, leaning down to kiss a meandering trail up her spine.

"I guess I can let you off the hook, Mir," she said–hips jogging once, hard, just to hear Mira's gasp– "All you gotta do is tell me whose idea that was, yeah? Be good for me now. Speak."

"Z-Zoey, pl–"

"One word per command, baby," Zoey interrupted, nipping at her shoulder. "You can say 'me' or 'Rumi'–that's all you gotta do! I made it sooo easy for you. Here, I'll let you try again: speak."

"Please–"

"Mmm, nope." Zoey stood up on her knees, adjusting her grip on the leash wrapped around Mira's wrists. "Wrong answer, pup. I thought you were being good for me?"

She watched this time, watched as the strap slid out of Mira's soaked and swollen cunt, further soaking the g-string she'd pulled to the side; she could see Mira flutter around the thick silicone even as she drew back. She paused when the tip bulged at Mira's entrance, stretching her open.

"One more time, Mira." Fuck, that moan–raw and harsh and bitten off, muffled behind Mira's hood. Zoey felt herself clench on nothing and took a deep breath, wrangling her self control before she spoke again. "One more time. Whose idea was it to tell everyone you top me?"

She waited, poised, as Mira shivered and panted and squirmed in her grip–

And looked over her shoulder–

And laughed.

Mira didn't say anything at all, just looked up at Zoey from behind her puppy hood, gaze smug. Zoey was fucking into her before she could think not to just so she could watch her eyes roll back, hearing the moan tearing from Mira's throat as it went high and tight. Zoey yanked her back by the hip as she pounded into her, the slap of skin loud in the room over the breathless panting from where Rumi was tied up.

Still, Mira was louder.

Voice rising even as the tenor grew rough and guttural, Mira gasped and moaned and just when she tensed beneath Zoey's hands, back arching and legs shaking, Zoey thrust into her harshly, seating her cock fully inside as she pushed Mira down into the bed.

Mira whined–then realized she couldn't move, couldn't chase the orgasm right there, just out of reach–and she wailed.

Zoey held her as she squirmed.

"Aw, what's wrong Mir? What's the matter?" Mira's only answer was ragged gasping, which just wouldn't do. "Speak freely, baby. Did you need something?"

"Zoey–Zoey, please, please, just–"

"Just what?"

"Just fuck me, just–just fuck me, please, please, I need to come–"

Zoey clicked her tongue, shuffling forward until she was sitting on her heels, keeping Mira speared firmly on her cock.

"That's weird; you must not've needed it that bad–"

"I do–"

"–cuz you didn't answer my question!" With an exaggerated shrug, Zoey sighed. "Oh well! Don't worry, you'll get another chance a little bit later, just 'cuz I'm super nice."

"Wait, Zoey–wait, I'll–"

"You'll hush is what you'll do–don't you think Rumi should get a chance to be a good girl?"

Across the room, Rumi flashed bright again–and the metal chair she was tied to scraped against the floor, drawing Zoey's eye.

She was deliciously pathetic right about then: chest flushed and patterns flashing, arms straining against the soft pink hemp binding them behind her back. Her puppy hood–her muzzle a vibrant purple, ears flopping cutely over her eyes as she trembled in her bonds–caged her whines and whimpers easily.

She gasped with each little thrust of her hips; the glowing shaft of the cock Zoey had manifested from the Honmoon for her twitched with the movement.

They didn't use the Honmoon for sex often–because it was too good, too much, all of them connected like that, bound at the soul–but Zoey wanted to feel how badly Rumi ached for her. She wanted to taste Rumi's desperation, wanted to let it burn beneath her own skin.

Rumi knew it, too: with Zoey controlling the manifested dick, Rumi had a front-row seat to her emotions, her desires–her desperation.

Not that Rumi could do much about it at the moment; not with the leash securing her ankles to the chair, her glowing cock poking over the top of her panties.

Too bad for her!

(For both of her girls, really; then again, they'd brought it on themselves soooo–)

Zoey drew back, languid, and Mira whined. This would've made a weaker woman crumble, probably, but definitely not Zoey, who was totally cold blooded. Cooler than cool, and all that.

Thrusting, she paused when her hips met Mira's and reached with the hand not pressed between her shoulderblades, popping the first button holding the strap in the harness.

"Y'know, Mir, I bet Rumi wants to behave."

Another pop, and the weight of the strap lessened. Mira shuddered and tried to turn; Zoey could almost see the glare beneath her puppy hood. She ignored it with a happy sigh.

"I mean, just look at her–"

"Zoey–"

With a savage thrust, Zoey cut her off.

"Puppies don't speak," she murmured, and Mira's choked whimper was so fucking good Zoey had to freeze against the spike of arousal rocketing up her spine. Fuck, she was close–closer than she'd meant to get. "Puppies don't speak unless they're told to, baby."

Mira's breath hissed through her teeth–

But she didn't speak again.

Zoey unbuttoned the last two buttons and wiggled the harness free, sitting back to admire the dildo still stretching Mira, her pussy flushed and slick around its girth. The black rubber cockring of the harness sat snug to the flared base pressed tight to Mira's cunt, pushing her underwear out of the way. Zoey nearly moaned because c'mon, it was such a pretty sight–especially when Mira whined again and fluttered, shifting the dildo visibly.

Okay, so Zoey was going to pass the fuck out if she didn't get a move on.

Check, and check.

"Alright babycakes," she said, unwinding the leash from Mira's wrists, "go ahead and sit back for me, yeah? Careful! Don't–" she pressed her fingers to the base of the toy while Mira moved–finally listening to instructions, and God was she cute when she got this desperate–and after a bit of maneuvering, Zoey slid her hand from between the cock stuffing Mira full and the bed she sat back on, dragging fingers along Mira's spread thighs as she did so.

Mira hung her legs over the edge of the mattress, feet resting on the floor as she shuddered and squirmed. She shifted her weight until the dildo sat comfortably inside of her; Zoey watched her carefully for signs of discomfort, but saw none beyond a brief tightening of her eyes when her twitching, swollen clit brushed the silicone base.

And then she leaned back, body language aiming for nonchalant. She wasn't fooling Zoey, though–not with the bright blush of arousal high on her chest, and the firm peaks of her nipples through her bra, and the shiver of her thighs giving away the game before she could even try to play it.

She was needy.

"Okay, whew–" And Zoey was fucking dizzy, actually; maybe she should've had a snack before they'd started this. "Open your legs for me baby–yeah, fuck, good girl." Rumi lit up behind them at the praise, which was hilarious and expected, but Mira clenched, which made Zoey feel absolutely fucking crazy. "Good, good girls. You're both being so good for me."

When she was sure her legs wouldn't give out (because how fucking embarrassing would that be?), Zoey eased herself to her feet, kicking the harness off and straightening her skirt before stepping back into her heels (she needed the height advantage, regrettably) and shuffling between Mira's knees.

She reached down, fixing Mira's thong back in place over the cock, tracing her fingers up the valley of Mira's breasts–taking the scenic route to tweak her nipples through fabric, delighting in her gasp and the low growl of annoyance that followed–before she drew her nails along the drum of her pulse just below her collar.

Goosebumps raced along the path Zoey's fingertips had taken; Mira's breath stuttered in her throat.

"Mir…" Zoey teased; Mira leaned in close. "You can speak freely for this, okay?"

A nod so slight Zoey barely felt it against the finger she curled beneath Mira's chin.

"Okay, good. Mira…"

Mira held her breath, eyes hazy like they always got when Zoey made her show her throat, blissful and dazed.

"How youuuu doin'?"

Pausing, Mira blinked.

Frowned, visible even behind the hood.

"Did you just–did you just quote that stupid American show at me?"

Zoey could only offer a single fingergun to accompany her grin, but it would have to do. She threw in a wink for good measure.

"You betcha!"

Zoey imagined Mira's expression speedran all the stages of grief in the seconds it took for her to inhale, but after a moment she closed her eyes and heaved a long, long sigh.

"I can't stand you, Zoey."

"Lucky for you–"

"Don't."

Behind Zoey's back–across the room–Rumi barked a laugh.

"Oh my gosh, you're so dramatic Mir. I'm just joshing!"

"You're just who?"

"Don't worry about it," Zoey grinned, tapping the finger under her chin to get Mira to tip her head back further, exposing more of her throat. The collar wasn't tight, but it was snug; Zoey brushed her fingers along the top even as she studied Mira's skin for signs of redness or irritation. "Really, though–how are you doing? Do you think you can keep my cock warm for a little bit while I go deal with my other misbehaving puppy?"

Zoey heard Mira shudder as much as saw it–breath hitching, knees bumping the outsides of Zoey's thighs when she clenched. Her voice was a whiny grumble when she finally managed,

"I mean, I guess." Then, after a moment, she laughed. "She's not gonna tell you either, though."

"Oh, don't worry about her," Zoey hummed. "I've got my ways. Very mysterious. Very cool."

Mira rolled her eyes at this, but when Zoey paused a half-step back, she cocked her head.

"What's up? Are you good?"

"Yeah, duh. Just," Zoey shrugged, reaching up to cup Mira's jaw. "Just love you, is all."

Mira blinked again and blushed down to her chest, and Zoey was just super hard pressed not to squeal because it should've been straight up illegal for Mira to be so fucking cute when she was this fucking hot, but there it was. Life finds a way, or whatever.

"Love you too, jagi," she murmured, nuzzling into Zoey's palm, her voice all low, honey-sweet warmth. "Love you even with your stupid jokes."

Zoey giggled, brushing her thumb over Mira's muzzle one last time before she drew back, shooting the double fingerguns now that her hands were free.

"Love you even with your grumpy pants."

"I am almost entirely unclothed right now–"

"Aaaaaand that's enough talk from the puppy peanut gallery!" With one last, long look at Mira flushed and shivering and stretched around her cock, Zoey spun away. She took quick, dancing strides to stop before her other girlfriend, studying her with a predatory smirk.

Rumi glimmered, a constant, shimmering storm in her patterns; the skin between those patterns was flushed and soaked with sweat–except, of course, where slick shined in the low light, smeared across her thighs and the base of her glowing cock, iridescent trails of it leaking from her tip. Zoey eyed her critically.

Like Mira, she shivered in the cool air of the room, muscles trembling beneath the fingertips Zoey dragged experimentally across her skin; unlike Mira, she kept up a constant soft, keening whine that she didn't even attempt to interrupt with words.

She didn't stop whining at all, actually, not even when Zoey's fingers trailed from the nipple she tweaked through her bra to the base of her cock. It jut from where Zoey had weaved the threads of the Honmoon, anchoring them to Rumi's clit, just above the heavy, glowing balls she'd coaxed from the ether.

Zoey paused there, feeling Rumi twitch as she pressed light fingertips to the warm, buzzing shaft–

"Aw, pup. What'm I gonna do with you?" Rumi reacted about how Zoey expected, redoubling her whining. A bead of slick gushed from her tip, rolling heavy down her iridescent cock; Zoey smeared her fingers through it just to watch it spread in thin, clear strings. "So fucking needy–you just can't help yourself, huh?"

She brought those fingers to her mouth and set them between her teeth, still not looking at Rumi directly–still watching arousal roll down her length to soak her ruined panties–as she murmured, "Now if only someone was willing to spill the beans about that stunt they pulled earlier… Hmm…"

Rumi, poor, pathetic thing she was–she whined and thrust herself up as much as she could with the leash still securing her. Zoey savored the taste of her thick and heady on her tongue before she hummed, cocking her hip.

"Maybe my good, obedient girl wants to tell me now?" Zoey listened to Rumi's whines pitch higher. "Yeah, that's what I thought. Speak, baby."

"Please."

"Oh–I didn't ask the right question, huh?" Zoey giggled, sinking to a crouch between Rumi's legs to watch her squirm. "Okay, lemme rephrase. Who do I need to punish for that stunt earlier? Hm?"

Rumi's patterns were a riot of color everywhere Zoey's hands touched–the sides of her knees, the top of her thighs, the sweat-slicked ridges of her abdomen–but to Zoey's genuine surprise, she only tipped her head back and panted.

What the hell.

With a growl, Zoey pushed herself up, climbing into Rumi's lap and hooking her fingers beneath the collar sitting snug around her throat.

"Rumi, speak. Who did it?"

"Zoeyyy–"

Rumi was fucked out and desperate–but not, Zoey noted with mounting frustration, answering her question.

"Really not gonna tell me?" She tugged the collar again lightly, peering into the slitted eyes of the hood to catch a glimpse of tear-stained gold. "Even though your treat will be so good if you do?"

And okay, maybe Zoey was getting a little desperate too–but as she sat there in Rumi's lap, skirt pushed up around her hips with Rumi's cock buzzing against her cunt, she was having a bit of a time trying to keep ahold of the situation.

Sooooo she might've jumped the gun, rolling her hips–coating the underside of Rumi's shaft with the slick arousal gushing through her own ruined panties.

"You don't feel that, puppy? How wet I am for you?" Zoey's voice was apparently joining the mutiny, coming out high and breathless when she spoke. "God, Rumi, you don't want to be good for me?"

"Fuck, Zoey–Please, pl–"

"Hush, baby. I didn't tell you to speak."

"But–"

Zoey reached down between them, taking Rumi in her hand–squeezing and stroking her with the combined mess of their slick–and Rumi choked on a gasp. She whipped her head to the side so fast her muzzle bonked Zoey right in the face, glancing off her cheek. She swallowed and mumbled Sorry even as she arched.

Then she mumbled Sorry again–for speaking out of turn, Zoey suspected, fighting a grin–and then she said nothing at all because Zoey was dragging her fingers all along her length, teasing touches that made her own fingertips tingle with the Honmoon's energy. She traced lightly up one side of Rumi's shaft and down the other, thumb swiping across her slit, gathering slick to smear over her cockhead–

"God, Zoey, Zoey please, please I'll–I'll tell you, I'll tell you, please just–I need–"

It took a second for Rumi's gasping moans to register–Zoey was just a liiiiittle distracted with how the threads of the Honmoon rose to meet her touch, how the ridges beneath the surface of Rumi's cock pulsed against her palm in time with Rumi's heartbeat–but when they did, Zoey gave a big, exaggerated gasp.

"Yeah? My good girl finally wants to behave?" She gave Rumi another squeeze and brought her fingers up cup her muzzle. "Knew you had it in you, baby."

Rumi preened beneath the praise, straightening even as Zoey draped her arms over her shoulders, chest puffed out and eyes crinkling happily at the corners. She was so cute Zoey wanted to kiss her stupid.

But she resisted!

More important stuff to worry about, dammit.

She was gonna get her answers.

"Good. Now…" She wiggled in Rumi's lap. "The name, hot stuff. Speak freely."

Rumi panted and cleared her throat. Swallowed.

"What do I get if I tell you?"

What would she–?!

The audacity!

"When you tell me," Zoey scowled, pressing the fingers still sticky-slick with arousal to either side of Rumi's neck, "You get a little treat for being a good girl." Rumi's throat moved against the web between Zoey's forefinger and thumb; Zoey fought to be normal about it.

"Just a treat?"

Rumi cocked her head, gaze flashing over Zoey's shoulder to Mira. At the sound of her breathy laugh, Zoey narrowed her eyes.

A glance back confirmed her suspicions–Mira, thighs squeezed together and hips rocking quietly as she fucked herself, moaned when she leaned back on her hands, arched and smug.

"Aht! Ma'am!"

"What?" She'd given up trying to play it cool, it seemed; her voice was low and rough, breath hitching as she rode Zoey's cock–without Zoey! What the hell! "You were dealing with Rumi–I had to entertain myself somehow."

"Oh I fucking bet," Zoey muttered, ignoring Rumi's pleased laugh. "You two–I'm starting to think neither one of you want to come this week. Sheesh!"

Mira froze, outrage blooming in the set of her shoulders.

"Wait–this week?"

Rumi sputtered a Hold on that Zoey ignored as she shrugged and crossed her arms. "Neither of you are listening. I'm not gonna reward you for misbehaving, am I?"

"Wait just a–"

"Zoey–"

"It's really too bad," Zoey spoke over them, pressing lightly against Rumi's throat to stop her whining. "I was just gonna tease whoever'd done it a little, y'know? Maybe a teenie-weenie bit of overstim. Nothing crazy," she sighed, "but now I've gotta be the bad guy."

"You don't–" Mira hesitated, and Zoey could see her throat bob. "You don't have to do that."

"Don't I?"

Rumi tried to speak, buzzing against Zoey's fingers; she earned another gentle squeeze for her trouble. When Zoey didn't move–staring at Mira with one eyebrow raised, one hand on her hip below her rucked-up skirt–Mira sat forward, posture careful and voice sulky.

"We were just joshing–" So she had known what Zoey meant! "–you don't have to be mean."

Zoey hummed, cocking her head. "Yeah? You finally wanna be good for me?"

Mira sighed. "Sure. Whatever you say."

"Mmm. Okay, bet. Come here."

The response was immediate: Mira opened her legs and reached down, hand pale from the force of her grip on the sheets. Pushing her panties to the side and pinching the base of the dildo, she began to tug it free.

"Aht." Zoey interrupted her before she got too far. "I didn't say take that out, puppy. I said come here."

Mira blinked and flushed, and Rumi's groan vibrated Zoey's hand from the tips of her fingers to her wrist, but she only nodded down at her strap still buried deep inside of Mira.

"I'm not done with that." The breath Mira released at Zoey's tone was shaky; between that and Rumi's throat working against her palm, and Mira's slick shining on her thighs and Rumi's cock warm and leaking against her belly, well–Zoey was starting to get a little impatient.

"Come here now, Mira."

And Mira listened.

She stood on legs that trembled visibly, even in the semi-dark of the room, cupping the dildo at its base–stepping carefully, panting like she was running a race. Zoey may have twitched once or twice, grinding against Rumi, but that was an absolutely reasonable response to Mira dripping down her own legs with Zoey's dick still inside her.

When Mira was next to them, trembling so hard her leash jingled, Zoey just stared for a beat and drank her in.

"Well?" It was a short, sharp growl, and it jolted Zoey–and Rumi, when Zoey's hand twitched reflexively–out of her stupor.

"Right, yeah–yeah." To be fair, part of that stupor was a brilliant idea hitting Zoey like a lightning strike–with Rumi rocking against her with little half-thrusts and Mira holding Zoey's cock by the base, it had all come together in her brain like clockwork.

Zoey had the best ideas.

"Okay, so!" After giving Rumi's throat one last squeeze, Zoey rubbed her hands together. "Here's what you're gonna do: since neither one of you wants to behave–"

"I came over here, didn't I?"

"Mira, thank you for volunteering!" Mira made a sound like hrk and Zoey ignored it completely. "You are gonna take my cock out of your pussy," she announced cheerfully, "and you're gonna fuck Rumi's mouth with it."

It was satisfying to see the reactions get reversed this go around: Mira whined and Rumi whispered Fuck, and Zoey felt like God's most schemingest schemer when she added, "And then I'm gonna edge you both." When she felt those words land–in the useless bucking of Rumi's hips and the breath that whooshed from Mira's mouth–she looked between the two of them with a double thumbs up.

"Fun, right?" And then she laughed. "Speak freely, pups."

Mira shifted her weight, shaking her head like she couldn't believe her predicament–like she hadn't gotten herself in this situation to start with! She coulda told Zoey the truth at any time!–before she rested a hand on the back of Rumi's chair.

"Fun, she says–" and she huffed a laugh of her own. "She's gonna kill us, Rumi."

"Gonna die happy, I think," Rumi mumbled, squirming. "Actually–um."

Zoey perked up, dropping her gaze to Rumi immediately; she hadn't used a safeword, but Zoey would recognize that tone of voice anywhere.

"What's up baby? You okay? What do you need?"

She shifted again, blushing very prettily down her throat, and only stilled when Mira's hand drifted higher to cup the back of her neck, thumb stroking encouragement across her flickering patterns.

"I–" She shrugged awkwardly, "It's not a big deal, but if you–like, my arms feel alright but. I'd be fine if you wanted to untie me now. Please."

Zoey's heart was doing Looney-Tunes style shenanigans in her chest, tumbling acrobatics that made it hard for her to breathe past the silly, goofy smile that Rumi's words put on her lips. How this woman managed to go from bratty to shy was a trick that Zoey simply didn't have the braincells to unravel at the moment.

Still, it made her warm and fuzzy in the best way.

"You're so fucking cute, you know that?" Zoey released the single column tie, leaning heavily into her to reach (just for the tie! Definitely not to press their boobs together, nipples brushing through the fabric of their bras and the sweat on their chests mingling and–), and Rumi hummed, arching against her.

The rope fell away with a whispered shhh, and Zoey carefully maneuvered Rumi's arms back around to the front, rubbing them, checking circulation, and–

And apparently she hadn't even needed to bother because Rumi wrapped those arms around her back and pulled Zoey close, smushing her muzzle into the crook of Zoey's neck. Zoey huffed a surprised laugh, squirming in Rumi's grasp. It just made Rumi squeeze tighter.

"… Hi."

Mira snorted, but Zoey giggled, relaxing into the embrace and pressing a kiss of her own to the puppy hood right about where Rumi's temple hid beneath soft leather.

"Hi, baby. Having fun?"

Rumi's voice was muffled when she answered, "Yeah."

"Could've just asked if you wanted to cuddle, y'know."

"I know."

Rumi heaved a big, belly-deep sigh. Beside them, Mira was doing what Zoey was pretty sure were breathing exercises, shifting her weight between her spread legs. She still cupped the dildo pressed flush to her, pressed deep in her–Zoey tried to keep her hips still at the thought, though whether she was successful was up for debate.

"I can feel you twitching, baby," Rumi murmured, amusement clear in her voice–so that answered that, Zoey guessed– "Maybe you don't want to punish us after all? Maybe we could take care of you right now instead?"

Hoooooo boy, it was a tempting thought–but no, no, these two had gone on national TV and lied on her honor! Zoey couldn't let that slide, no matter how low Rumi's voice got, or how Mira's breath caught in her throat, or–

Right.

She had to focus.

"Eyes up, Rumi. Pretty sure you have a job to do, pup."

With a grumble, Rumi loosened her arms, sitting back to pout at Zoey. "Mean to me."

"Soooo mean to you." Zoey pressed Rumi's muzzle with two delicate fingers, turning her face. "But also, so nice–I'm gonna let you watch Mira take my cock out, yeah? I know you love watching her make a mess."

She didn't even have to look at Mira to see her full-body shiver–she could hear it in the hitch of Mira's breath, the tremble of her against Rumi's shoulder. When Zoey flashed a grin her way, she found Mira's eyes dark, brows drawn down into a scowl.

"Kind of rude to talk about me like I'm not here, isn't it?"

"Would be if you didn't love it," Zoey shrugged. "Now, if you're done stalling…?"

The pause Mira took felt calculated, like she was making a point; then she heaved a breath and rolled her eyes, gingerly raising a leg to plant her foot on Rumi's knee. Rumi tensed, her thighs hard beneath Zoey and her arms pulling her flush, squishing her glowing cock between them, and Mira–

Mira let out a shaky breath, tugged her underwear aside, and pulled.

Slow and slick, stuttering when she twitched, hips chasing the sensation as she pulled out inch by agonizing inch; Zoey realized that she hadn't taken a breath in quite some time when she blinked the spots from her vision. A little hard to remember silly little things like air when Mira let her head fall back, a groan clawing its way out of her throat as she reached the halfway point–God, she was only halfway and Zoey was fighting for her life, she absolutely could not come right now, she would never live it down, fuck–

Rumi trembled beneath her, legs shaking, and Zoey understood on a psychic level that she was holding herself back from bucking lest she dislodge Mira from where she balanced. She didn't even whine again, which was both a blessing and a curse–it meant that Zoey could hear every tiny, whimpering gasp that Mira swallowed down as the tip bulged at her entrance, every slick flutter of her cunt as she tried to keep Zoey inside.

Fuck.

Fuck.

"Yeah," Rumi breathed, "yeah, same. Fuck."

A little voice in the back of Zoey's head muttered something about puppies and talking, but when the tip of the dildo popped out of Mira's pussy with an obscene wet sound, that voice went up in a puff of smoke. Mira groaned, deep and satisfied, and dropped her muzzle to her chest, eyes hot.

In response, Rumi shook like a purse dog and whimpered. Zoey had the sneaking suspicion that she wouldn't have fared much better in her position.

But she wasn't.

She was in charge here.

"Good girl–" The raspy quality of her own voice shocked her and she almost wished she had forgotten to praise, watching Mira clench on nothing and feeling dizzy with arousal. "That's–that's my good girl. Fuck."

Mira's laugh was triumphant, gaze fixed on Zoey even as she leaned forward and–

And rested the toy, slick and dripping, against Rumi's muzzle.

Waiting.

Zoey blinked, shaking her head, and stuttered out a, "Oh, right. Yup! Yeah, go ahead baby–let her clean it up for me."

Which was the exact right thing to say to make Rumi move finally; she jostled Zoey as her hips jogged, though Mira simply rolled with the motion as if she'd expected it. When Mira moved Zoey's cock under the chin of Rumi's muzzle, Zoey could hear her breath hitch; when Rumi opened her mouth, laving her tongue on the underside of the dildo, Zoey swallowed thickly.

What was she supposed to be…?

Oh, right!

Trying to remember how her hands worked.

She figured it out, of course–right around the time that Mira pressed the cock to the back of Rumi's tongue, when Rumi swallowed around the tip and made a noise so raw and desperate that Zoey had to remind herself that she was supposed to be punishing them–and after dipping down into her underwear to the mess of her own soaked cunt and spreading slick all over her hand, she wrapped her fingers around Rumi's length.

Mira held the dildo pinched carefully between her fingers, the muscles of her forearm straining as she withdrew the cock; Zoey licked her lips as Mira thrust again, trailing strings of spit and slick when she pulled out, and pushed in, and pulled out–

Zoey had to hook her legs under the chair to keep Rumi from thrusting in time to Mira fucking her mouth, but when she started to stroke along her shaft at that slow, agonizing pace, Rumi stilled and whined and let herself be touched.

With her other hand, Zoey walked her fingers up Mira's side–up the curve of her hip and the cute swell of her breast, teasing her nipple through her bra. The noise she made at that–the cute little whimper she thought she hid–made Zoey reach up to cup her jaw, cooing sweetly. When Zoey took a moment to stroke her muzzle–since she was already reaching up there and all–Mira scowled about that, too.

Sheesh. No good deed goes unpunished, huh?

"Grumpy pants," Zoey muttered, touch trailing down across the plane of Mira's abs, over her panties, fingertips pushing the fabric to the side so she could trace lightly around her flushed, twitching clit. "After everything I do for you, too. Hmph."

Granted, everything she did for Mira also included this–the teasing, working her up, slick gushing between her fingertips as Mira's hips rocked–but she was still providing a service! Mira and Rumi both needed a little reminder of the rules, and how to behave, and what happened when they didn't. Zoey could help them with that; Zoey would help them with that, and all it would take was a little reminder of who was in charge.

It was apparent from the way Rumi gripped her hips that she wasn't the boss, right then; her clawed hands shook and flexed, and when Zoey released her to skim fingertips over the glowing, slick tip of her cock, she choked on a whine that was muffled by Zoey's dick sitting heavy on her tongue.

Mira wasn't any better, of course–her legs trembled despite how she tried to keep still, throat flushed, pussy fluttering every time Zoey's fingers ventured past her clit to trace the swollen folds around her entrance. She was a little better at swallowing down her noises, so Zoey supposed she could give her some credit.

Not too much, though.

Mostly because she thought she could get away with sneaking one by Zoey, like Zoey wasn't a fine-tuned orgasm machine; she must've thought that she wouldn't notice her movements getting shorter, her breaths coming faster–the flush rising in her chest and throat as she watched Rumi swallow down her cock. As if Zoey didn't know Mira's tells better than she knew herself.

So when Mira's eyes shut and her breath hitched in her chest against what was undoubtedly a moan, Zoey withdrew her touch altogether, sinking her fingers into the soft skin of Mira's thigh, holding her in a bruising grip.

Mira's eyes shot open as she choked on a growl, and Zoey cocked her head with a grin.

"Oooh, what's wrong puppy? Need a hand?" When Zoey wiggled her fingers, Mira narrowed her eyes–a frankly adorable glare when viewed from behind her hood.

She was smart enough to keep her complaints to herself, though!

Progress.

Rumi, on the other hand…

Like. Literally.

Rumi twitched in Zoey's hand, eyes slitted as she cleaned Zoey's cock with her tongue; every withdraw of the thick silicone was trailed by a rumbling groan from her chest, and every press was met with the wet squelch of her throat working. If not for the way Zoey couldn't seem to keep herself from that sight–from Rumi's lips stretching over her, spit leaking from the corner of her mouth–she might have missed it when Rumi's eyes slipped closed, when her patterns flared and her breath stilled, and–

And Zoey released her just in time, judging by her pitiful whine. The tears that streaked down her cheeks were just an added bonus.

Zoey was killing the game.

Which meant, of course, that she couldn't just stop.

She did it again, and again, and again–slipping her fingers between slick folds, tracing around the head of Rumi's cock, pressing inside of Mira (just the tip! Just to see how it felt!), fondling Rumi's balls with gentle fingers–and by the time they both whimpered for her, trembling and very pathetic, Zoey was starting to feel a little pity.

And maybe a little desperate herself.

Not that she was gonna tell them that.

"Okay–" Zoey began; Rumi's whine cut off on an indrawn breath, the cock halfway out of her mouth. Mira hummed, voice wobbly. "Okay, pretty girls. I think you've had enough–you'll tell me what I wanna know now, right?"

She let her hands fall away completely as she slid out of Rumi's lap, straightening her skirt, ignoring the slick she could feel shining on her own legs. When she was certain her hands were totally not shaking (cooler than cool! Ice cold!) she snapped her fingers once, eyes on Rumi as she pointed to her feet.

"Heel, puppy."

With her arms freed up, Rumi scrambled to obey, untying the long end of the leash from her ankles before stumbling to her knees, shuffling to a heel. When she looked up at Zoey, lips pulled up in a lopsided grin, Zoey let her fingers rest on the back of her neck. "That's my good girl."

She took a moment to reach down, adjusting Rumi's muzzle before she placed a chaste little kiss on the end of her nose with a Mwah! and a pat to the side of her hood.

To Mira she said, "You can stay right there–but go ahead and toss that–" she motioned with her chin to the cock, "back on the bed. I've got an idea."

"Just one?" Oh, she was trying to sound sarcastic–like the rest of her nearly-naked, shivering body wasn't telling on her to hell and back–but her voice shook when Zoey stepped away from Rumi and spun, flopping down into the chair and crossing her legs.

"Well," Zoey hummed, "more than just one. Sixty-nine, if we're being honest; for now, though, I think you two have earned my favorite."

She snapped her fingers again, pointing to the ground just at her side; Mira hesitated only a moment after tossing the strap before she sank to her hands and knees.

Zoey wrapped their leashes around her fists, reveling for a second at Rumi's hopeful gaze and the blissed out grin Mira couldn't hide when Zoey tipped her chin up, exposing her throat–wishing it was possible for that goofball talk-show host to see them now–before she spoke.

"So here's what's gonna happen: one of you is gonna fess up to that funny business you pulled earlier, and that pretty girl gets to come. But since you've both been so good for me, whoever doesn't confess gets to suck me off."

Mira hummed, though there was no heat to it; it must have been hard to complain like that, all needy and desperate to be filled. "Why did you have me throw the strap if–?"

"Because you are gonna make me another one."

Mira's eyes grew wide, breath catching in her throat. Her spine straightened reflexively, pushing her tits out between her arms. Zoey had to bite back her grin at the sight.

She was just so damn pretty like this.

"Any more questions, hot stuff?"

Mira shook her head, breathing carefully even.

When Zoey was satisfied Mira had nothing else to say, she turned back to Rumi, waiting patiently on knees and knuckles.

"Now. My good girl. My sweet girl. My perfect, beautiful, smart, obedient puppy–" God, it was so easy to get Rumi riled up; every word of praise made her patterns shine, made her sit up straighter until she practically vibrated with it. "You'll be good for me, yeah? You want to make me happy, don't you?"

Rumi nodded so hard her hood jingled.

"Finally ready to behave?"

Another nod, Rumi shuffling forward the slightest bit.

"And I know you wish you were inside me right now…" Zoey grinned at Rumi's whimper. "So, baby. Tell me whose idea it was. Speak."

Rumi panted, looking up at her with open adoration.

Glanced away, at Mira.

Glanced back.

Whined.

"Don't look at her–" Zoey snatched Rumi's muzzle between her forefinger and thumb, the leather of the leash pressing to the hood. "Look at me, puppy. Look at me and tell me who did it."

Rumi blinked, and whined again, and–

And rolled her eyes towards Mira.

Hmm.

"Was it her?" Making her voice low and smooth, leaning forward–uncrossing her legs so Rumi could see how wet and flushed she was beneath her skirt–so she could see just how badly Zoey wanted her– "Was it Mira who made you misbehave like that, pup?"

Rumi huffed a breath and swallowed.

Nodded, minutely.

Zoey smiled so hard her face hurt as she leaned back, barking a laugh. "I fucking knew it."

She shot a grin to Mira, who shrugged.

"I did nothing wrong."

"Says you. That's okay, though! I'm still gonna give you your reward because I am kind and loving and–"

"And horny," Mira huffed, rolling her eyes.

"–and generous. So." Zoey laughed, shuffling the leashes to one hand as she stood. She may have tugged a little harder than necessary on them in the processes, but it buffed out–and besides, it made her girls get up close and personal to her.

Though, nobody told them they could touch.

Rumi's muzzle brushed her inner thighs, smearing slick across the leather while Mira's hand skated up the back of her calf, her knee–before dipping between her legs briefly, one lone fingertip dragging her panties aside, tracing between her folds.

She probably should have punished that, but–

Fuck, it felt good. Maybe she could let it slide, just this once.

She tugged Rumi's leash, pointing her to the chair again; Rumi scrambled back into her seat, holding on with both hands as she looked up at her, adoration shining in her eyes. Zoey loved her so fucking bad it was silly.

Turning, Zoey took two wide steps until she straddled Rumi, back to front–until Rumi's hands came up to rest on her hips, claws digging into the sensitive skin there–before she tugged Mira to kneel before them both. She eased herself down into Rumi's lap, scooting back until she felt the warm, buzzy press of her cock against her ass (and heard the way Rumi's breath caught, the pressure of those claws like pinprick stars dotting her skin.)

Rumi's thighs pressed together beneath her; Mira rested her hands on Zoey's knees where they bracketed Rumi's. Her gaze was hot and focused, and Zoey swore she could feel it like the touch of fingers on her clit.

"Okay Mir, you just–you wait right there, and I'm gonna–" She lifted herself on shaky legs, finagling the leashes to free up a hand so she could tug her underwear off in a disjointed shuffle, tossing them away. Rumi caught on quick enough to grasp her around the hips and yoink her up like she weighed nothing, rucking her skirt high up on her waist in the process–and Zoey was definitely not swooning over that, nosiree, not today–before she held Zoey still and poised over the tip of her cock.

Mira's breath was coming fast, Zoey noticed–her eyes were so fucking dark, the warm brown of her gaze swallowed up by the hot black of her iris as she watched Zoey's cunt twitch–God, she was getting off on this, wasn't she? Watching Zoey get manhandled, watching her get picked up–watching her body betray how fucking desperate she was, when Zoey was supposed to be the one in charge–

"Slow," Zoey gasped, trying not to twitch at the first press of Rumi's tip sliding between her lips. "Nice and slow, Rums–let her–" Fuck, Rumi's hips jogged just once, just a little, but more than enough to seat her cockhead inside of Zoey. "Rumi, Rumi–slow, slow puppy, gentle–that's, that's it–"

Mira was leaned forward now, watching, watching–panting as Zoey sank onto Rumi's cock, as the head dragged against her walls and the thick shaft filled her; Zoey felt her voice in her throat, making noise–unsure if she was speaking or moaning or what, but at least Rumi had listened. The rest of her descent was slow, achingly slow, until Zoey sat flush in her lap (trying to ignore how she fluttered around Rumi, how fucking big she felt inside of her, buzzing and hot and shivering where their thighs touched–)

"Can I–" Mira's voice was raspy, choked; Zoey dragged her eyes open to find her closer still, looking up at her from between her legs. "Can I make it now? Can I touch you?"

Okay, so wow, throttling down her orgasm when she was so fucking full of Rumi, with Mira begging to touch her, was actually a feat of heroism. They should have been making statues of her–Zoey was beyond cooler than cool, she was a fucking ice queen, she was–

"Zoey, please–" Rumi's voice was a rumble against her back, and Zoey clenched down hard–even an ice queen had her limits–and Rumi bucked in response, and Zoey clenched down harder, and arched, and–

"God, fuck, Rumi, Rumi, Rumi–" She just felt so fucking good, the rapidfire jog of Rumi's hips, the short strokes–Rumi couldn't do much else, not like this, which was good for Zoey's fraying control but not good for the orgasm just out of reach–and when Zoey reached back to grasp at the back of Rumi's hood she groaned, and–

And Mira's fingers dug into Zoey's thighs, gripping them before she pushed down, halting Rumi's movements but for the slow grind of her hips firm against Zoey's ass.

"What about my reward?" It was a growl,narrowed eyes aimed at Rumi. Zoey wasn't sure when her head had fallen back, but as she blinked, she heard Rumi's grin in her huffed laugh.

"Your…" Zoey's brain was running at, like, eighty percent. Too overloaded with claws and cock and Mira's furious gaze, the slick painting her thighs where she leaned up, holding them down. "Your reward. Yeah."

Mira's reward.

Mira's…

Oh. The fucking Honstrap!

"Yeah. Right! Right, yeah, go ahead baby. You can–" Zoey sucked in a breath when Rumi's arms tightened around her; the grumble of her voice was petulant when Zoey reached up and flicked her puppy ear. "Hey. Don't be mean."

Another rumble at her back. The patterns that Zoey could see flickered gold-pink-blue between her legs.

During all this, Mira had been content to watch–though Zoey didn't miss the way she rolled her eyes, muttering under her breath Rumi gets away with everything–but as Zoey let her thighs fall open, Mira's scowl fell away.

Her gaze focused them, on the cock stretching her open, on the twitching of Zoey's clit and the slick mess of arousal coating Rumi's base where their skin met. Mira loosened her fingers, massaging the crescents left by her nails before she slid a hand down and in.

She traced the seam of Zoey's thigh, trailing through curls, brushing light fingertips along flesh hot and flushed with arousal; she paid particular attention to Zoey's entrance, the skin stretched around Rumi, tracing this with the pads of her fingers. The noise Zoey made when she grazed her cunt, stopping and pressing on her clit, was high and choked and maybe a little desperate.

Maybe.

"Ready?" Loosing a breath, Mira looked up, eyes crinkled with her smirk. "Or do you want to keep stalling?"

"Stalling? I'm not stalling, I'm–oh, oh fuck, Mira–" A helpless whine as Mira pressed against her and–

And stroked, pulling the threads of the Honmoon between her fingers, anchoring them to Zoey's body. She wove a searing, zipping pleasure that made Zoey squirm despite her best efforts, that made Rumi gasp–even Mira herself was affected, having to pause halfway through to stifle her groan.

By the time it was done–by the time Mira had her hand wrapped around Zoey's cock, thick and short and glowing with iridescent threads–Zoey was hanging onto her self control by the skin of her teeth.

Mira wasn't doing much better.

Eyes unfocused, fingertips stroking feather light up and down Zoey's shaft–

Zoey's hand flashed out, sinking into the soft, supple leather of her hood. She grasped Mira firmly as she tipped her head back.

"Good–" Zoey began, cutting off in a groan as Mira's mouth fell open beneath her muzzle, the pink of her tongue flashing out to lap at Zoey's cock. A string of saliva connected them for a moment, gossamer thin before it snapped. Zoey gasped, fingernails digging in. "You can have it," she said, breathless, "if you beg for it."

Zoey needed it, needed her–needed to feel Mira's mouth around her, to feel Rumi moving inside of her–but she'd be damned if she wasn't gonna rub it in, just a little.

So she was a little petty; sue her!

Her girls had acted up and they needed to know who was the b–

"Please," it was a sob, a desperate, whole body exhale from Mira's plush lips, "please, Zoey, let me–I need–"

With another shaky groan, Zoey gave Mira her reward.

She swallowed Zoey down easily even when Zoey gasped and twitched, bucking into her mouth; the whole reason Mira always made Zoey's cock so short, she suspected. She liked it when Zoey bottomed out in her, liked it when she could swallow around her and tease Zoey with the motion of her throat–and Zoey, helpless against the sudden onslaught of pleasure, could do nothing but feel.

Feel Mira's throat working around her before she pulled back, hollowing her cheeks, dragging her tongue all around the tip of her cock; feel Rumi inside of her, twitching and shaking at the phantom Honmoon sensations from Zoey's cock and the very real sensation of Zoey clenching down on hers; feel Mira's shivery pleasure, her hot desire as she looked up at Zoey, watching her writhe.

There was a smirk building in the corners of her eyes–Zoey could see it, and she could feel it, the ticklish edges of amusement carrying through the Honmoon–and she decided that that was enough of that. Tightening her grip, she held Mira still and rolled her hips–careful, so Rumi wouldn't pop out on accident–but hard, pulling Mira in even as she thrust.

It was fucking incredible.

Rumi inside of her and her inside of Mira, pushing and pulling–the slick slide of Rumi's cock dragging along her walls, the press of Mira's tongue on her shaft, Rumi's cockhead bulging at her entrance, Mira sucking–back and forth, back and forth as Zoey threw her head back, riding and thrusting and gasping and–

And fuck, she had to stop, the pleasure was building too fast, too much, too soon–

But not her pleasure.

Zoey thrust into Mira's mouth, pressing her down flush to the curls above her cunt, and Mira fucking lost it.

She moaned, high and tight and desperate, choking and swallowing as she spasmed, arching and bucking her hips uselessly; she held Zoey's thighs open with a bruising grip as she rode out wave after wave of her orgasm, as Zoey rode it out with her, trying her best to hold on, but fuck–

When Mira pulled back, gasping and hoarse, Zoey didn't think about it; she tugged at her, pulled her until Mira climbed up her body, hand over hand, trembling and panting in Zoey's mouth.

"I–I'm, I didn't mean–"

"Shhh, hush, c'mere–" The kiss was sloppy, all teeth and tongue and Mira's ragged moan in her mouth as the upper half of her muzzle got smushed between their faces. When they parted, Zoey continued, "you're okay baby, shhh, you're okay–"

Mira fought to regain her breath as she settled into Zoey's lap, and Zoey took that time to rock her hips against Rumi, preening at the whimper the motion earned her.

"Feeling okay, baby?"

Mira mumbled something unintelligible, resting her head on Zoey's shoulder. Zoey hummed. "Answer me, Mira."

Mira swallowed thickly, sitting back.

"'m fine," she said eventually.

"Good?"

"… Yes…?"

"Green?"

Mira froze, and huffed a laugh. "Hold on–"

"Yes or no, baby." Zoey smiled up at her. "Or, I guess, you actually got three color-coded options–four, if you count amber–"

"Zoey." That was her I'm trying to convince you I'm in charge voice; Zoey had heard it many a time–in situations just like this, as a matter of fact! "I've had enough. I want to watch you and Rumi–"

"Give me your color, baby, and I mean now."

Mira's mouth pulled into a scowl, forearms resting on Zoey's shoulders, but Zoey only wiggled–laughing at Rumi when she groaned, giving weak little thrusts inside of her–and smiled. They sat like that for the space of several breaths until Mira heaved a big, defeated sigh. Zoey tried to bite back the smugness in her grin.

"… Fine," Mira muttered with a huff, "green. But that doesn't–"

"Sit on my cock."

It wasn't often that Zoey could take Mira's breath away, but God, when she did…

"I–" Mira was blushing–probably from the orgasm, Zoey thought, but it could've also been from the way Rumi had bucked the three of them up, almost overbalancing, when Zoey said what she'd said. "Zoey, you know I'm sensitive after I–"

"Come without permission? Come without even asking for permission?"

Okay so there was no way she was just going to let her off the hook completely–not for the prank they'd pulled earlier, and not for holding out on her, and definitely not for coming when Zoey hadn't told her to. Mira looked around, zeroing in on Rumi like she was gonna help.

Pfft.

"Zo–"

"I'm not done with you, pretty girl. And I'm not asking."

It was another breathless moment before Mira whined–Mira! Whining like a good puppy!–before she pushed herself up, hips inching forward enough for Zoey to grab her ass, guiding her into her lap. She let her down slow, nice and easy, and she could feel when she settled over her tip; the muscles beneath her palms tensed, and Mira's breath caught, and Zoey watched her with something like rapture.

Her mouth moved before her brain could catch up.

"I love you so fucking much." It came out a little slurred, a little rushed–but Mira bit her lip and hid her face shyly. "I really, really do. Thank you, Mira–" She eased her down, every nerve in her body lighting up as she felt Mira part around her, felt the soft heat of her enveloping her cock. "God, fuck, fuck–oh fuck, oh fuck, please, Mir–"

Mira let her head fall forward, resting on Zoey's shoulder as she gave a long, low moan. She relaxed completely, trusting Zoey to hold her–to move her how she wanted, how they both needed–and for the second time that night, Zoey got a little choked up at the way her girls loved her.

And then Mira was settled in her lap, long, pink hair draping across all three of them, and Zoey paused to let her adjust.

(That was the official reasoning, because Being stuffed full of one of her girlfriends and balls deep in the other was not a good enough reason to become a one-pump chump.

She could not let that happen.)

When Zoey was finally confident in her ability to not immediately come, she moved experimentally–bracing on Rumi as she rolled her hips, feeling as much as hearing Mira squelch around her cock–before Rumi growled.

She grabbed Zoey, steadying her–gave a deep, rolling thrust, moving her and Mira, and fuck, fuck–it was exactly what Zoey needed, exactly what she'd been trying to accomplish–Rumi fucked into her and the motion pressed her deep inside of Mira, and when she pulled out, Zoey followed. The hot, thick weight of her inside, filling her up, making Zoey's cunt flutter helplessly as she pressed and pressed and pressed, and the squeeze of Mira around her, her hips rolling and her clit nudging every time she bottomed out, the clench of her pussy around Zoey's cock stealing her breath–

Zoey's brain was all buzzing, horny mush, shaken up in her skull between her girls as they fucked her and rode her and whined and moaned in her ear, as they squeezed her and split her open and she couldn't hang on, she couldn't, it was too good, she was too full of them–inside of her and around her, in her heart and the air she fucking breathed, Rumi and Mira, and Mira and Rumi, and–

And she came like that, with their names on her lips, pleasure snapping like a spring in her core. She arched as it took her, muscles locking up as it swept through her body, a wellspring of heat heat heat, of Mira's lips and Rumi's voice and fullness and pressure and–

And she felt Rumi come, slick spurting hot inside of her–felt the Honmoon ripple through the empty space in her chest when Rumi growled in her ear; it wrenched another (blessedly weaker) orgasm out of Zoey's body like wringing water from cloth, and she choked on a moan that Mira was quick to swoop in and swallow.

Which would have been fine–would have been more than fine, actually, except–

"Fuck, fuck! Mira, I'm done I'm done I'm done, please I'm coming, pleasepleaseplease–"

Mira continued to roll her hips, faster now–faster as Rumi's low, rough groan was burred with the slap of their skin, faster as Zoey gave stuttered, sobbing gasps, trying to pull back–trying to pull out, she was fucking sensitive–but Mira was close.

Even if she hadn't been repeating it under her breath, even if Zoey couldn't feel it through her dick–and she definitely, definitely could–Mira had a breeding kink that was absolutely fucking lethal, and knowing that Rumi had come inside of Zoey–

She clenched–so hard it felt like she was squeezing all the air out of Zoey's body, holy fuck–and dug her nails into Zoey's shoulder, grinding in her lap, tipping her head back with a shout. Zoey whimpered and choked, unable to find the breath to even moan as she tumbled over the edge with Mira–as she felt Mira shake and flutter around her, grinding her clit against Zoey's mound even as she forced Zoey deeper inside of her–and then, finally, finally, everything grew still.

Zoey was pretty sure she'd died and gone to heaven, Tom and Jerry style. Her whole body tingled, mind spinning like she'd taken a turn in a blender, and when she managed to more or less account for all of her limbs again, she found her arms sticky with sweat and wrapped around Mira's waist. Mira, for her part, wasn't much better off; she panted in Zoey's ear and held onto Rumi with shaking hands.

Rumi clung to Zoey's back, pressing ticklish little butterfly kisses to her skin. When the hell had she taken off her hood?

"Everybody okay?" Rumi's voice rasped as she stole Zoey's line; Zoey let her have it on account of still being half-fucking-dead. "Zoey? Mir?"

"Hnnng." Not quite Korean, but Zoey figured she could try again later. Mira huffed a laugh that moved the hair stuck to Zoey's shoulder.

"I'm… Alive. I think."

"Mmm."

Zoey heaved a sigh. "'Kay, yeah. Yeah, I'm–I'm good."

Rumi laughed, the arm around Zoey's waist squeezing tighter. "Yeah? Mira, are you good?"

Mira grumbled, "You know I'm good," and then added, "not that it mattered. Can't believe you sold me out to save yourself."

The laugh that bubbled out of Rumi lingered, giggles that jostled her inside of Zoey–reminding Zoey to release the Honmoon threads connecting them, to her immense relief.

And then she actually processed what Mira said.

"Wait a fucking–hold on!"

Mira's lips quirked at the corners, despite how she pressed them into a line; Rumi laughed outright as Zoey glared between the two of them.

"It was Rumi's idea?"

Mira sat back with a wince, dismissing Zoey's cock to return to the Honmoon. "I tried to tell you: I did nothing wrong."

"Sorry baby," Rumi breathed unapologetically. "Thought it'd be funny–"

Mira added, "And it was–"

"–and maybe a little hot, getting you all riled up." Rumi pressed another kiss to her spine. "For the record, I was right."

Zoey, smushed and sweaty between her girls, groaned. "You know I have to punish you, right? Like, on principle?"

"Mmm. Do you?"

Zoey let the thought sit as she felt their heartbeats against her chest, their lips against her skin–their souls, intertwined with her own.

She laughed.

Just this once, she decided, she could let them get away with it.