#apprentice: ari

*

I have an apprentice named Ariana Haventhorne, and I had a mighty need to explore and understand some of the darker parts of her character. 

Part 1 (and some backstory) to this can be found here, but this is just the 8k worth of lemon. Thank you to the wonderful @queenofeden​ who left her apprentice Laurel (as well as the other 2/3 of her OT3) in my capable(?) hands and allowed me to use Laurel to do this, as it wasn’t something I felt quite suited anyone else.

This is also just so happens to fill two of my Terrifying Ten prompts, which were apprentice² and foursome. Whoo!

*

A week. That was how long it had taken for Ariana Haventhorne to fully admit that she did have a problem that needed facing, and which she did need help with, and that she needed to bite down on her tongue and listen to that small part of herself that was still fighting against it. Lucio’s reaction had been…miffed. Perhaps a little too still for the moments it took for him to process what she told him. She had thought him ready to stand and leave, or to try and convince her that he himself could help. She had blinked when he kissed her on the forehead, when his hands had only shaken a little when they closed over her knees and squeezed. It was a testament to how far he had come, how far they had both come, when he had told her to do whatever she needed to do, and to never feel like she needed to ask permission to search out parts of herself. The next day, he had left the city on business, and she had approached Nadia, Laurel and Julian to confirm what they were doing. They had discussed boundaries, safe words, expectations. Things had felt overwhelming at first, but when they had assured her that they would be reminding and helping her throughout, she had settled and felt ready. They had chosen a neutral space for it, with Nadia having the servants prepare a guest room in one of the higher floors of the palace. The Countess sat in an ornate armchair in the corner, completely bare save the waterfall of hair covering her breasts and falling about her hips. Julian and Laurel are the same way, naked and bared to the world. Ari however, had been gifted a set of clothes: a sheer black robe, a laced corset with matching underwear, and a pair of patent black heels. Her hair is out and falling down her back, with Laurel standing just to the side and pulling her fingers through it. “Are you okay?” Laurel asks, soft. Ari nods. “Remember your colours.” “Oh…green. I’m okay.” Laurel smiles and she looks to Julian, who’s also beaming in approval. Ari flushes a little and ducks her head to try and hide it; she’s done nothing and they’re beaming like she has hung the sun, or called the stars, or done even something small to be proud of. “Head up,” Nadia calls. All three snap their heads to look at her. She’s smiling, warm and patient. “Remember to keep your head up—in all manners of the phrase.” Ari frowns, gives a slow nod. Then she looks back to Laurel and Julian. “Shall we start, then?” Julian asks. He places his hands together in front of him, looking almost thrilled. Laurel nods, then turns to look at Ari. “We’re going to give you some instructions,” she starts. “Simple ones, nothing that should make you uncomfortable, but if it does then you need to tell us, hm?” Ari nods. Laurel’s eyebrows pull down, an almost-glare she has seen many times but not quite like this. “Use your words,” Laurel says. Oh. “I understand.” “Perfect. Undress for us.” That one is easy enough. Ari has never been bashful about her body, not even around Laurel or Julian, which has probably been more embarrassing for them than her, but they’re used to her brashness by now. She shrugs off the robe and steps out of it, then begins to undo the laces at the front of the corset, where the shadow of her cleavage and a line of skin is peeking through. “Ah ah,” Julian tuts. “Slowly. We’re looking to be entertained.” It slips out before she can stop it, and while she’s still undoing the laces at her normal speed: “Because I’m absolutely a performance monkey.” Julian’s eyebrow cocks. Laurel tuts under her breath. Somewhere behind her, Nadia lets out an amused laugh that’s laced with something not-so-nice. And a moment later, Ari remembers that she’s supposed to be holding her tongue. So she does just that. While Julian leans down to whisper in Laurel’s ear, and neither of them take their gaze away from her, she takes her tongue between her teeth and slows her hands to a stop. “Did we tell you to stop?” Laurel asks. Or snaps. “Is this just going to be three hours of you being your usual, bossy self?” Ari snaps back. Laurel’s grin spreads a little wider, and Julian stops murmuring and straightens. Laurel takes a step toward Ari, slow and smooth, until their chests are brushing. “If you’re lucky,” Laurel murmurs. “It will be much longer. Get down on your knees.” Both of Ari’s eyebrows lift. “Did I stutter?” Laurel asks. Ari exhales, taking care to control it. “No,” she answers. “‘No’ what, hm?” Ari bites down on her tongue again. Julian chuckles. “I don’t think she’s going to say it,” he murmurs, stepping up beside Laurel. “Oh no,” Laurel murmurs back. Her gaze flicks back up from Ari’s lips. “She will. But for now, she’s getting down on her knees.” And she isn’t quite sure what makes her do it, even though she knows it’s the game they’re playing and there are consequences she doesn’t really remember, but she does it. Her hands fall away from the laces in her hands, and she slowly gets down onto her knees. When Laurel is still watching, Ari sits back on her feet, and Laurel smiles. “Oh, good girl!” She praises. Her hand comes up to stroke Ari’s cheek, and…she blushes. Feels the warmth spread like wildfire in her stomach. And it’s a battle for her eyes not to fly wide or for her not to scoot backward and away, because it’s equal parts terrifying and thrilling. Laurel makes a final pleased noise before stepping away, her feet padding along the floor as she moves off to somewhere by the door. Julian crouches down in front of her. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks, his voice level, perfectly Julian. “The praise? The validation?” She nods. “It’s strange,” she says. “I would throttle anyone who dared condescend me but it’s…it’s not like that. That’s not how it feels.” “Let it in,” Julian tells her. “It will feel just as good as when you give it all up. The trust, the control, the autonomy. You can become ours.” “I don’t want to be yours,” she answers, barely a whisper. “I want to be me. That’s the whole point of this.” Laurel reappears then, crouching down on Ari’s other side. “The point of this,” Laurel says. “Is to help you with your feelings. Hating yourself for what you do is not who you are. Letting us take control of you is a way for you to get out that hate. Let us take it from you.” Ari nods, though she still isn’t sure. Julian frowns. “Colour?” He asks, as though sensing the doubt. Ari smiles, her nose crinkling. “You haven’t done anything to me yet.” “Colour?” Ari exhales, much too sharply. “Green,” she says, and then ads with a sickly sweet smile, “Sir.” Julian lets out a barking laugh, and the results of her language seem to be immediate. She can see his cock shifting where it hangs between his legs, and her eyes drop down in curiosity. Laurel is on it immediately, something hard and vaguely sharp pressing in under her chin to lift her head right back up. “Behave yourself,” she says. “No looking. You have to earn cock. But not today. Today, you’re earning the right to cum.” She pauses to hum thoughtfully, her eyes roaming down Ari’s form. “You’re sitting so nicely. Good girl.” “What do you say to that?” Julian reminds her, rising to his feet. Ari licks her lips, her gaze still fixed with Laurel’s. “Thank you.” Laurel lets out a pleased hum before pulling the cane away. It is quickly placed on the chase a few feet away, spread out with a collection of items she had brought over when Julian had been talking to Ari. She shifts her fingers over a few items. Julian leans into her and murmurs. Ari tries to strain her ears to hear what they’re saying, but Nadia clears her throat. Ari feels herself blushing, and curses herself for it. She shifts her weight and pulls her legs out from under herself, but that too is quickly stopped. “Stay where you are, darling,” Julian calls back. And she does. Without really thinking on it, she quickly shifts back, hands in her lap. “Sorry,” she murmurs. That gets their attention. They both turn and step back to her, Laurel crouching in front of her while Julian settles behind. “Tilt your head up,” Laurel instructs. Ari’s eyes drop to her hand. “What is that?” “A necklace. Tilt your head.” Julian gathers her mass of hair in his hands and lifts it from her neck, allowing Laurel to secure what is very clearly a collar with the word princess around her neck. The sight makes her cheeks and chest heat, and it’s plainly obvious for all to see the effect it has on her. “Mmmhmm,” Laurel murmurs. “I thought you’d like that.” Once it’s secured, Julian releases her hair, and it falls about her back in a mass of sunlight. She feels him shift behind her, and a moment later his hands are on her hips, guiding her backward. “Sit down,” he instructs. “Cross legged.” She allows him to steady her, not that she needs it, as she moves back. She sits down, crosses her legs, places her hands in her lap. Laurel kneels before her and sits back on her feet. “We’re going to play a game,” Laurel tells her. “And your reward will depend on how well you go. Understood?” Ari nods. Her eyes are a little wider, her pupils a little more dilated. Laurel smiles, then leans around her a little to speak to Julian. “She’s a natural,” she says affectionately, then she calls out a little louder, “Isn’t she doing so well, Nadia?” “Very well, from where I am sitting,” Nadia agrees. Ari blushes again. And…she thinks she hums, or…or something, there’s a noise in her chest that’s there but not quite there. Julian’s hands smooth up her bare back, his fingertips catching on the scars there. Her back arches and she sighs when he begins counting the ridges of her spine as Laurel continues speaking. “Julian and I are going to touch you,” she explains. “Anywhere we please, but nowhere important, and your job is to stay still. You can make noises, but you can’t back chat. Every time you move or speak out of turn, you’ll be punished. Okay?” Ari nods. “Yes…?” “Yes. I—" The pleased approval is slowly disappearing from Laurel’s eyes, and when she turns her head just enough to spy Julian’s face, his is looking the same. Her throat grows tight in near-panic at the thought of losing those looks, and she blurts out, “I understand the game…mistress. Sir.” Julian purrs and kisses her shoulder blade, and her entire body shivers in pleasure. It’s startling, and like most of the feelings she’s had in the past hour or so, a little terrifying. It’s not so much the person as the act, even though it’s something Lucio has done many times. It’s…it’s the act, and the approval, the praise, as though she were being rewarded, and for something so small. She wants more of it. “What’s the punishment going to be, mistress?” She asks. “Ooohoho, twice in the span of a minute, Laurel? My, the work you’ve done already!” Laurel shakes her head, and there’s a bit of a flush there too, one that says maybe she’s still getting used to the name. Her eyes divert away, over to Nadia. “Nadia?” “Yes, my love?” “What should her punishment be?” Nadia makes a thoughtful noise. “We can try both sides: denial or contact.” Laurel looks to Ari. “Does that sound okay?” “Aren’t you choosing?” “Yes, but you have to be comfortable with it. Are you?” Honestly, she is now, but she knows she might change her mind when it starts. But she’s allowed to, they told her that. She can stop or change her mind at any point. So she nods. “Yes. I’m okay with it.”

*

Twenty minutes. Nadia had been counting. Twenty minutes of Ari on her knees, seated back on her feet, with Laurel in front and Julian behind. Twenty minutes of soft little kisses to her shoulder blades and nuzzles into her neck and brushes of fingertips along her thighs, her hips, her lower back. Little whispers to the inside of her elbows and where her pulse jumped in her throat. Her limbs and body shook with each one, hair a mess about her hips, spilling down onto the floor, falling into her face as she keened and whined, completely blissed out, head tilted back to the sky as Laurel kissed up the front of her throat. The torture of it wasn’t not moving—that was something she was well practised at—but in not demanding more, in finding her patience to wait, in letting them do what they pleased without knowing what it would be. But mostly, it was in the softness, the affection, the silent and loving way they had brushed against her and showed her exactly what she meant to them. When Nadia finally calls time, Laurel and Julian move back immediately, leaving Ari to resurface from her mind with a gasp. Her body shudders one last time before her head falls forward, hair hanging in her face and over her shoulders, shielding her from the world. She’s still, gasping, wide-eyed, a constant stream of whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck racing through her mind as fast as her heartbeat. “Yana?” Laurel asks, after a pause. Ari shakes her head in a jerking motion. “I’m—I’m fine, I’m fine.” She lifts her gaze, swallowing before she speaks. “Was that…was I good?” “Very good,” Julian replies from behind. “Far more patient than I was my first time. Or even fiftieth.” Laurel grins, tilting her head as she brushes the hair from Ari’s face. “Julian also has a thing for praise and being a good boy,” she tells. “But he’s much louder when he isn’t getting what he wants. He’ll sit for Nadia, though; however long she wants, until she’s pleased.” “And I always am,” Nadia interjects. “That was wonderful to watch.” And at her words, Ari finds herself blurting out, “Do I get a reward?” And she…feels like she’s said the wrong thing this time. Not because they look angry, but because of the matching shark grins that Laurel and Julian both adopt. “I’m…I’m getting a reward, right?” She asks, a little quieter. “I didn’t just sit there for nothing.” Laurel shifts forward, pressing a finger to Ari’s lips, almost before all of her words are even out. “Ah, remember your manners,” Laurel murmurs. She leans in even closer, pressing her own lips to the other side of her finger, so close to kissing. Ari breathes out through her nose. “You can have your reward. One orgasm.” When Ari frowns, Nadia speaks up. “You will be allowed to have an orgasm, she means,” she explains. “And if you need it, there is a blindfold so you do not have to feel so watched by us.” “Can’t I just go into the washroom?” Julian tuts, his knuckles tracing up her spine. She shivers and arches into his touch. “Oh no no no…” he answers. “This orgasm is your reward, but seeing it is our reward.” “Well it feels like a punishment.” “Oh, darling. When we’re punishing you, you will know about it.” And then he brings his hand down on her bare ass with a crack, just catching her on the hip. She yelps, except it comes out as more of a strangled moan, and she smacks her hand over her mouth to try and cover it but it’s too late. The shark grins have come back. “We’ll have to explore that later,” Laurel says. “But for now…” She holds up the blindfold, and after a pause Ari nods and allows Laurel to fit it snuggly over her eyes. The world disappears, but only through her vision. With her other senses trained, she can hear Julian and Laurel murmuring instructions to each other, about her. Then, she feels their hands in a few different places. Laurel’s are on her knees, coaxing them apart. Julian’s on her hips, holding her steady as he settles her between his legs. “You’re facing away from Nadia,” Laurel assures her. “It’s only Julian and I who can see you.” Ari nods. “How are you feeling?” “Green.” And she means it. Perhaps would mean it even more if there was a colour better than green. Because Nadia was right—the blindfold is working. Her hands, which Julian had guided to the inside of her thighs, are steady, she is calm. She is aching, actually, and bare seconds off coming. She licks her lips. “You can start,” Laurel says. So she does. Julian releases her wrists, and it takes her a few moments but her hands slide down, immediately finding their place. One digs its fingers into her thigh, the other slides two fingers right down her slit. She jumps and groans in Julian’s hold, bites her lip to try and conceal it. No one tells her not to. She moves her fingers, rolls the tips over her clit, whimpers when they slip inside of her. “You’re doing so well,” Julian murmurs in her ear. “You look beautiful like this, fucking yourself on your own fingers for us all to see. Aren’t you glad you were so well behaved?” The fingers on her thigh tighten, and when she begins to drag her nails down, someone’s hand goes to her wrist to stop her, but she’s too far gone to argue about it. She feels herself beginning to crash, her body shaking; she’s not loud when she comes, barely above whispered gasps and sighs. She feels Laurel’s hands on her knees, stroking small circles on the inside. And then she crashes, shivering and shuddering against Julian. Her hand goes back to dig into his hair, and she hears him whimper at the tug, his hips grinding into her ass. And somehow…it just fucking eggs her on, and she feels like she could come again, but the moment she tries someone has taken hold of her other wrist. She groans. “Ah,” Laurel warns softly. She’s close enough to be whispering into the shell of her ear, a hot little breath that curls around it and sends Ari reeling. “One only. You’ll earn the others when it’s time.”

*

They had taken a small break, then. Nadia had brought them all water and some fruit, but Ari hadn’t felt like eating. Her stomach was burning, and she was seated with her thighs pressed together and hugged to her chest, her robe draped over her back by Julian. She was quiet. Thoughtful. Unsure about how she felt. After a while, Laurel had cleared everything while Julian had settled behind Ari and begun combing his fingers through her hair to braid it back. She had taken a hand to his wrist to tell him she could do it herself, but he had shaken his head and told her he wanted to. When the braid had been tied off and Laurel had returned to where they were sitting, Ari had agreed to another game. This one was different, and from the start did not seem like a game at all. Games were fun. Games, she could win. This…was not a game. She was on her hands and knees, with her ankles tied loosely together with a soft silk scarf but her hands free. She could easily shuffle around, just not very fast. “We have some questions before we start,” Laurel says. “Are you okay with us touching you intimately?” “I…yes.” “Both of us?” “Yes, both of you.” “And we know that pesky hearing of yours could hear a pin drop five streets away, so we’re not going to speak. Is that okay?” Ari grins mischievously. “Yes.” “Okay…we’re going to practise non-verbal commands. Julian has a leash in his hand that he has attached to your collar, and he’s going to walk you around the room by tugging on it wherever he wants you to go. If you reach certain points, we mark you down as getting a reward.”

“Like an obstacle course?” “Not quite, but close enough. We do introduce our ‘permission’ rule here, though. Can you repeat to me what that is?” Ari rolls her tongue in her mouth for a few moments. Truth be told, she doesn’t remember much of what they told her anymore, because her body is on edge. It’s curious, it’s waiting, it’s craving. Words on her tongue and in her mind seem foreign, but she does find them. “I’m…not allowed to come without asking?” “Without permission,” Julian corrects, with a small tug of the chain. Ari groans, her body jerking slightly toward it. Her thighs brush against each other at the heat. “You can ask as many times as you like, but we need to say yes for it to be allowed.” “And if I don’t? If I don’t remember to ask or if I come when you say I’m not allowed?” “We expect that you will.” “…so you’re doing it just so you’ll get to punish me.” “No no no!” Laurel speaks hurriedly, trying to reassure her. “No, we’re—Yana, no. We just mean that—" “We mean that it’s a hard thing to learn,” Julian cuts in. “A lot of these games take patience and practise. If you do come when you don’t have permission, we will punish you, but we’ll also help you figure out ways not to do it next time.” Ari bites her lip. “Do you? Come without permission when you play with Nadia?” There’s a pause. She thinks they’re exchanging looks. “Sometimes,” Laurel replies. “And we get punished. But they’re not awful punishments. Quite often the punishment is worth it.” “You’re not giving my loves any ideas are you, Ariana?” Nadia calls. Ari feels her wicked grin return as she calls back. “Of course not, Nadia.” “That’s what I thought.” There’s a bit more shuffling. The chain clinks as Julian moves. Laurel walks about the room. “Okay, we’re going quiet now. Don’t forget your colours.” And then Julian tugs on the leash, and she shuffles forward. It’s…odd. And a little terrifying, being unable able to see but having the skills to sense things but not the range of motion or permission to act on it. She’s sure he does it on purpose, but Julian almost walks her straight into several chairs or walls, and only waits until the last moment to tug on the leash for her to turn or stop or move. When he almost makes her run head-first into the oak bed frame, she stops in her tracks and pulls against it with a growl. He tugs back, just as hard, and her world swims when the collar tightens and she temporarily loses her ability to breathe. This…this she likes, this is familiar, the kind of roughness she’s used to with Lucio. Her thighs quiver. She hears someone, Nadia she thinks, hum their approval at the reaction. After what she thinks is five minutes, Julian tugs gently, which means stop. She does, and waits, and then there’s a hand on her ass, smoothing over it and squeezing gently. And then a finger is sliding down between her cheeks, and she shivers and moves toward it. Julian makes a noise of approval. She waits, breath in her chest, as his finger slips further down and presses at her wet hole. She whines, immediately pressing back, and he doesn’t tug on the collar which must mean it’s a reward. It means she’s pleased him. She wants a reward. His finger crooks inside of her, nice and slow, and it isn’t long until it’s joined by a second because of how wet she is. She hadn’t even realised it. She hears a happy moan somewhere a little further off, and then the unmistakable sounds of kissing. She lets out a huff at the same time Julian does; Nadia and Laurel must be taking a make out break. Ignoring them. Ignoring her. Ari’s cheeks flush, and she stumbles a bit on her hands as she struggles to understand that feeling. “Oh!” Julian makes a surprised noise as his free hand catches her to steady her. The chain falls to the ground with a series of clinks, the weight of it tugging just a little more on her throat. His fingers are still inside of her, slow and crooking and spreading. She arches her back and presses into them. He laughs, then murmurs for only them to hear, “Do you like that?” She beams and nods, rocking into his hand. “Oh and I can tell, dearest. I want it to feel good, because you’ve earned it.” He leans in and presses his lips to the shell of her ear. “I’ll let you come while they’re not looking, but you have to be quiet.” She nods again, hurriedly, almost whimpers—and again, has to pause to wonder where the feeling came from. Where the noises, so unlike herself, are coming from. But then a third finger slips in and she loses her thoughts, and she’s shivering all over when his thumb starts rubbing circles over her clit. And god, she’s close, she’s close, so close— “Julian!” Laurel’s voice snaps. Julian’s hand pulls away. Ari whines, her hips moving to try and find him again but only causing her to press back into thin air. Somewhere to her left, Julian laughs. She feels the weight of the chain shift as he picks it up again. “Apologies,” he comments from above her, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all. “Laurel, my love – would you care to join us again? I think Ariana is beginning to pout.” She feels him press a finger into her cheek as he speaks, and a few seconds later the sound of Laurel’s content sigh fills the room, followed by her feet brushing the floor as she comes back. “Did she come?” Laurel asks. “Not at all,” Julian answers, sounding proud. “Though she did take the bait and think I was going to let her.” They both laugh. Ari feels her cheeks heat. “Mmmmm, what a shame,” Laurel tuts. “Julian, why don’t you try again? Yana – stay still, exactly as you are. Don’t move away from his hand.” Ari licks her lips and nods, waiting in place as Julian settles behind her. She hears him pass the chain off to Laurel, followed by the feel of his large palms sliding up the back of her thighs. She counts in her head and tries to still her thoughts. It’s easy enough to concentrate on not moving when she isn’t being touched, but it’s another story to still herself when she wants to push for more and is so used to doing it. Julian’s hands squeeze the flesh of her ass, just enough to have her tense, and then move back down toward where her thighs are parted. She hears the chain clink as Laurel wraps it around her fist; it tightens just enough to force her head up and keep her from moving. “I’m going to start now,” Julian tells her. “I’ll use my fingers to try and make you come, and perhaps if you’re doing well my mouth too. Your job is to make sure you don’t come. Understood?” Ari shivers, and only after a few seconds does she manage a nod. Her breath is held in her chest, lips parted as she waits for him. “Use your words,” Laurel reminds her. “Yes sir,” Ari murmurs. “I won’t come.” Behind her, Julian chuckles. “Good girl,” he praises, and a moment later she feels his teeth scrape her flesh. She lets out a quiet whimper, barely-there, and he sinks his teeth in a little further. At her strangled moan, at the shake of her elbows, she hears all three of them hum in unison. “Maybe you won’t need to touch her to make her come, Julian,” Laurel says. “Don’t make it too hard for her,” Nadia calls. “We can experiment with pain later. Remember what you’re teaching her.” “Of course, Nadia,” Julian calls back. “We’ll teach her as well as you taught us.” And then he begins. True to his word, his teeth make no more contact with her flesh, and the grip of his hand on her thigh is no more than a light hold. His other hand begins whispering down her skin, a ghost of a touch, causing little goosebumps to spread across the back of her thighs. She feels his finger circling her hole a few moments later, wasting no time in his plan. He presses against the entrance, a movement accompanied by the noise of her slick as it’s moved around. “So wet,” Julian murmurs, and it’s praise. “I knew you would enjoy what we were doing to you. You’ve been so good, and that’s why we’ve been praising you so much. Do you like the praise?” Ari nods. “Use your words,” Laurel says. “We won’t ask you again.” “I…” Ari trails off, breath caught in her throat when Julian inserts two of his fingers together and crooks them right into her g-spot. “I like being praised.” “And?” Julian presses, gently scissoring his fingers apart. “What else do you like? What else have we done that you want to thank us for?” Her arms shake again when he slips in a third finger. “Oh! Three already?” Laurel coos, sighs. “Aren’t we lucky? What a good girl, taking so many of Julian’s fingers so quickly.” Ari’s head ducks, an attempt to hide another flush of her cheeks, but almost immediately Laurel tugs at the chain and pulls her right back into position. “Answer the question,” Julian reminds her. “Or we might not be so pleased anymore. Use your words to thank us.” Oh gods. Teeth clenched tight, she tries to think of her words, of what she could possibly thank them for. But her mind, the blissfully blank space she had all-too-easily created while Julian had walked her around the room, was much the same and she couldn’t figure out just what to say. “Would you like help, Ariana?” Nadia calls softly. Ari nods. “Repeat after me: ‘thank you for praising me’.” Ari swallows, then after a few moments manages to murmur, “Th-thank you for praising me.” “And ‘thank you for touching me’.” “Thank you for…for touching me.” “Excellent. Don’t forget to add their names, so they know exactly who is being thanked. Can you think of something yourself, now?” Ari gives a jerk of her head, one she isn’t really sure what it means. Behind her, she can feel Julian’s breath on the back of her thigh, so close as his fingers continue to pump in and out of her, curling in on just the right spot. She can hear him cooing and praising her under his breath, but the world is shaking too much for her to make them out. “I…” She trails off, and Julian chooses that moment to change the angle of his fingers and touch the tip of his tongue to her labia. “A-ah…I…I…” “You’re not going to come, are you Yana?” Laurel asks, an amused lilt to her voice. “N-no!” “It sure sounds like you are.” “I just—I need—I need a bre—eak! Pl—please, just a moment—” “Ohhh, but Julian is having so much fun! Aren’t you, Julian?” Julian murmurs his agreement into her, his tongue now circling her hole, lapping up everything that is spilling out from between and beside his fingers. His fingers are still curling inside of her in slow and torturous movements. She’s breathing, short and ragged, and counting in an attempt to keep herself grounded, but nothing is working. She’s teetering on the edge, and so close, and she won’t be able to stop herself— “That’s enough, I think,” Julian says, as his fingers and tongue slip from her. She gasps out, and a moment later her arms collapse from beneath her. She immediately feels the chain go with her, allowing her to press her forehead to the ground. “Th-thank you, Julian!” She gasps out. “For what, dearest?” Julian asks. “For—for stopping.” A warm hand sits itself at her back, rubbing small circles. “Thank you for stopping. And thank you for your fingers. And for your tongue.” “You’re welcome,” Julian answers. She feels his lips at the back of her thigh, soft and chaste. “Now, would you like to try again? We don’t have to if you don’t want to.” “I want to,” Ari says. “Please.” A pleased noise comes from all three of them. “Very well,” Julian chuckles. “Let’s try again.” And then, with her cheek still pressed into the floor and her ass pressed into the air, he sets himself on her once more.

*

The third game. The second had been exhausting to a point, perhaps the second or third time they had edged her, but when she had almost hit number four, something had clicked. She had stopped herself. She had clenched her teeth, and exhaled, and Julian had backed off just a fraction, and somehow they had found that sweet spot together, one where he hadn’t needed to ask and she hadn’t needed to tell, they had just known. When they had hit the sixth time, he had made her ask permission to come, and Laurel had given it, and she had gasped and shivered and clenched around him in what was maybe the most intense orgasm of her life. When she had come to, Laurel and Julian had each kissed her forehead and praised her, and thanked her for such a beautiful orgasm and being so well behaved. And she had beamed, and allowed them to praise her, and the thoughts in her head had become near-silent. Now, they were ready for the third game. This time Laurel looks a little more serious, more sombre. Her bottom lip is rolling in her teeth and she keeps looking to Nadia. After a few moments of deliberation she exhales and bends down to where Ari is waiting, sitting back on her feet with her hands behind her back and cupping her elbows, as instructed. “Do you trust me?” She asks. When Ari doesn’t answer, Laurel says softly, “You need to speak. You can’t be silent in this space. Do you trust me?” Ari frowns. “Of course I trust you.” “But do you…trust me like this? In charge of you? Do you trust me to know what’s best for you?” Ari doesn’t answer immediately, but then she says quietly, “You always do.” Laurel nods, then holds a hand out to the side. Julian appears, offering her the blindfold. This time when Laurel leans down to place it on, Ari closes her eyes and doesn’t argue. A few seconds later comes a tug on the chain at her neck, and she begins shuffling forward on her hands and knees. It doesn’t take her long to realise where they’re going. They’re moving toward the back of the room, toward where Nadia is sitting. Ari’s movements slow, and she feels a hand at the small of her back, soothing her. “It’s alright,” Julian says. “Trust us. Nadia won’t do anything you won’t like.” Ari nods, and keeps moving until the tug at her chain tells her to stop. She sits back on her feet and receives a pat on the head as praise. She leans into it. “Come here, Ariana,” Nadia says. Ari lifts back onto her knees proper, and Nadia takes her hand and pulls gently. She feels herself tugged into Nadia’s lap, then manoeuvred so that she’s curled over it, her ass in the air and her hands on the ground to steady herself. “Thank you Laurel,” Nadia murmurs. “Thank you Julian. You may prepare yourselves now.” Ari hears them move away. Rustling. A soft sigh. She lifts her head to try and follow the sounds. Nadia’s hand curls into her hair and takes hold of it, just softly, and just enough to turn her head and press it back down. “Patience, Ariana,” Nadia murmurs. Her hand comes to rest at the back of Ari’s thigh, thumb drawing small circles. “What are you going to do?” Ari asks. “So curious, so many questions.” Ari feels her cheeks heat at the tone, and also at Nadia’s hand creeping higher. Her fingers curl around the back of her thigh, just under the swell of her ass, so that her fingertips are pressing very close to her. Ari arches her back and presses into them, and unlike when she tried to push her way into Julian’s touch, she wasn’t admonished this time. And she liked that. “Open your mouth, Ariana,” Nadia commands softly. Ari parts her lips, just enough to feel the cool air on her tongue. “Further. And stick your tongue out.” Again, she parts her lips, just a little more. Her tongue stretches out, just the tip, and when Nadia’s hand tightens on her hair, she somehow knows it means further. She stretches it more, until it’s as far out as possible. Nadia hums in approval. “Good girl.” Her grip remains tight in Ari’s hair as she turns her head, and Ari feels her cheek pressed against the plush arm of the chair. The velvet is soothing against her warmed cheeks. Close by, she can still hear Laurel and Julian shuffling. Moving. She’s sure they’re close by each other, though for all her trained senses she can’t concentrate enough to figure out what they’re doing. “Arianna?” Nadia asks softly. Ari shifts a little to show she’s listening. “I want you to suck on my fingers. Will you do that for me?” Ari nods once, and immediately feels two of Nadia’s fingers pressing down onto her stretched tongue. “Wrap your tongue around them,” Nadia instructs her. “Show me how much you appreciate being given the chance to do this for me.” So she does. She runs her tongue up the underside of Nadia’s fingers before wrapping it around their tips and pulling them into her mouth, suckling gently. When Nadia hums her approval, she takes them a little deeper, her teeth scraping just a little. “I can’t hear you, Ariana,” Nadia tells her. “I can feel your appreciation but I need to hear it, too. A good submissive always lets their dominant hear how happy they are.” She has never been a loud person whenever she orgasmed, or anywhere between, save little gasps of surprise and groans of pleasure as things have sunk in or bruises have been created. The noises she had made during their games—the whimpers, the sighs, the cries—had all been unexpected, uncontrolled, and so unlike her. Nadia asking her to be louder, to be more verbal intentionally… “It’s alright,” Nadia assures her. The hand in her hair releases and moves to the small of her back, tracing small circles. “Just start with small noises. Little hums.” Moving her tongue and lips back to the tips of Nadia’s fingers, Ari does just that, releasing a soft little hum as she moves down again. She repeats the action a few times, until Nadia’s hand returns to the back of her head. The next time she takes the fingers in, Nadia holds her there and sends them a little further. Immediately, Ari’s head is swimming, her body thrumming. She lets out a quiet little whimper, and when Nadia’s fingers curl in the back of her throat, she gags but keeps herself down. “Good girl!” Nadia praises. “Three, two, one…” She releases Ari’s head, allowing her to pull back with a gasp. Tears are stinging her eyes behind the blindfold, but much like the burn in her chest, they’re making her heady and wet. She licks her lips and parts them to speak when she hears it: a soft groan, a curse, definitely Julian’s voice. A cry from Laurel. Skin on skin. Groans. Ari inhales. “Are they—?” THWACK. She cries out, immediately trying to shift away from the pain as Nadia’s hand connects with her left ass cheek. Her hips press forward, and Nadia’s grip on her hair tightens just a little as her hand comes back to sooth the imprint she had made on her ass just moments before. “How did that feel?” Nadia asks. Her palm is somehow cool, soothing, and Ari finds herself relaxing almost instantly. “I…” She swallows. “G-good. It felt…good.” “That is pleasing to hear. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you before, but quite often it is more painful than it is pleasurable if you know ahead and tense because of it.” Ari nods, she knows this from training and taking hits, never tense up when a hit is coming at you. She can still hear hard breathing in the background, the slow slap of skin on skin. Julian groans. “They’re…” She trails off. Nadia makes an amused noise. “Why?” “Why are they fucking?” Ari nods. “Because I asked them to. Because it brings me joy. Because it brings them joy.” She…she knew all of this. She knew they were all involved, that each slept with the other, but perhaps she hadn’t quite comprehended how it worked. That Nadia could simply instruct them on what she wanted and sit back and watch. That it was as simple as an order and they would follow it, without question, trusting that Nadia knew best no matter what. Exactly like she had been doing tonight. And the thought stalls her for a moment, causing a lump to form in her throat that she has to swallow down. “Do they enjoy it?” She asks. “Following your orders?” “Did you?” “Yes.” The answer is immediate, and almost completely without uncertainty. And it doesn’t floor her, and she’s still as sure of it a few moments later, when Nadia’s hand lifts from her ass. THWACK. She hears the next one a moment before it connects, its movement through the air, and she lets out a cry as it makes contact. Her hips shunt forward again for a different reason, grinding against Nadia’s thigh. “Ariana?” Laurel’s voice calls; between her gasps and groans, she sounds a little panicked. Ari groans and presses back up into Nadia’s hand. “I’m—I’m fine—" THWACK. THWACK. THWACK. She whimpers at the final blow, and with it comes her first orgasm. She shivers and shudders quietly against Nadia, held in place by a hand in her hair and a hand at her thigh. “Normally, I would make you count,” Nadia says, soothing her latest marks. She doesn’t acknowledge that Ari even came, that the evidence of it is dripping down her leg. “Perhaps if we play again that is something Laurel and Julian can arrange for.” Nadia shifts, and suddenly her lips are against the shell of Ari’s ear, purring. “Laurel so does love to tease and taunt. I’m sure she will simply adore having to punish you when you lose count.” THWACK. Another orgasm wracks her body in silent shivers and tensing muscles. Tears have started leaking down her face, or maybe they had been there a while, but they’re accompanied by a blinding white-hot pleasure throughout her body that isn’t just her release. It’s…it’s…she can’t explain it, but the pain, the sting of Nadia’s palm, the scrape of her nails, the building bruises… Along with the whimpering, the fastening slap of skin-on-skin. Julian is groaning and whining, Laurel is gasping. She’s heard each of them ask for Nadia, but Nadia has ignored them, all her attentions on Ari. THWACK. No orgasm this time, but her head turns, ignoring the searing pain of the tug on her hair to try and seek out the sounds across from them. “Do you want to see?” Nadia purrs. Her fingers have edged back to between Ari’s legs, pressing and probing gently as she speaks. “Do you want to see how my two loves fuck each other?” “YES!” Ari gasps out. Without warning Nadia rips the blindfold off, exposing the world to her once more. Stars explode in her eyes as an orgasm crashes over her without any fucking stimulation, just the pain and the praise and the sight of Laurel bent over the chaise, faced toward her as Julian absolutely rails her. He’s keening, moaning, his face is red and his hands are shaking. They’re both wearing collars they hadn’t been before, and are blindfolded from the world, and have chains attached to their nipples. Every time Julian pulls out, she can see a ring secured around the base of his cock. Ari whines, pushes back into Nadia’s hand. “Oh, you want more, Ariana?” “Yes!” “Yes what?” “Y-yes, I want more. Please Nadia! Please hurt me—AH!” Another smack, this one leaves deep gouges she can already feel the sting of. She’s crying, tears streaking down her face as Nadia pulls her back by the air, her back arching almost unnaturally. She grinds her hips forward into Nadia’s thigh as Julian lets out a desperate groan. “N-N-Nadia! Nadia, please—oh p-please—” He gasps. “Yes, my love?” Nadia coos. “Can I please come—please—I’ve been good, so g-good—” Ari’s world goes white for a few moments when Nadia spanks her again, leaving a matching set of nail marks across her opposite cheek. “Yes, you can come—” Julian and Laurel both let out relieved groans. “But Ariana must come first.” Ari lets out a gasp, shakes her head, “Not again, I—I can’t—” “I believe that you can, Ariana. One more, please. I would love for you to give me one more, like the good girl I know you are. I will give you the pain you need if you give me the orgasm I want.” Ari screws her eyes shut and nods her head, pushes her hips forward into Nadia’s thigh. Nadia pulls her hair and she pushes her hips back, presenting her ass to Nadia’s waiting hand. And when it comes down, she screams. The hand that connects is somehow so much harder, a smack of white-hot flame followed by claws that rake down her cheek and along the back of her thigh. She feels the bruise already forming there, the blood dribbling down her thighs, the white-hot flame, the hardest contact yet and she’s crashing. Coming. Crying. The tightness in her chest is gone and she can hardly move, going limp over Nadia’s knee as the sounds of Julian’s and Laurel’s pleasures fade into the background.

*

An hour later, she is enveloped in the searing heat of a scented bath. The heated water seeps into her bones, her aching muscles, her tight chest. Her head is resting against the side, eyes glazed and distant and down. The washroom is silent around her, the soft light of the candles dancing off the water and the painted walls. She hadn’t spoken since they had finished, the last noise she made having been the cry from Nadia’s hand that had set off her final orgasm. Nadia had warned her that she might drop, that she might go too far inside of herself after they were done and need help coming out of it. She didn’t think it had happened, but she knew it was hard to see yourself when you were so far gone. The silence around her was soothing, and her head was, perhaps for the first time, not raging with thoughts of the blood on her hands or how much she had changed since being resurrected. Her eyes cast down, to her fingers following invisible cracks along the inside of the tub. She inhales, softly, slowly. Deeply. She comes to life, so quietly it’s almost impossible to see, resurfacing from wherever she had taken herself. And then her eyes flicker up to Laurel, seated in the chair beside her, waiting for her to return. To be okay. And she reaches out, taking the hand resting on Laurel’s knee and squeezing it, eyes stinging. And then she says, with a voice so quiet, so barely there, it’s almost not: “Thank you.”

*

*

Hello!

So after probing people on discord about their apprentices, I was originally planning on doing ‘12 Days of KinkMas’ from 25th - 4th, but if you’re even remotely great at math you will be able to tell that I’m a solid 3 days late on that front. I’m still going to do it, exactly as planned, just not when I should have.

Each day has a kink/thing related to the number, with a different apprentice being paired with either of mine (Eli or Ari). This is both a Christmas gift to people who make me aggressively horny, as well as a good chance for me to practise writing short things that I don’t overthink to much.

*

“Why exactly did I agree to this, again?”

Tarek’s near-resigned growl rolls through his chest as Ari’s head bobs near his lap, the only sounds from her being impatient little signs and thoughtful hmms. A few moments later, she pops up with a wide grin on her face, though there’s a bit too much teeth and a bastard glint in her eye that are perhaps just enough to offset any comforting thoughts he might have had about the…situation.

“You agreed,” she starts, pushing her hair off her shoulder. Tarek swipes out at it, the long strands slipping through his fingertips and falling about her hips. “Because I’m adorable, and very persuasive, and also very—ah, no touching—very annoying when I don’t get my way. Tight enough?”

Tarek exhales through his nose, gaze dropping to the singular cuff that’s locking him to the chair. He rattles it, more for show than to test the strength, and when his wrist predictably stays locked in place he looks back up to Ari with a cocked eyebrow.

“What?” She asks, so softly, so innocently, he almost believes her. Almost.

“I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?” He chuckles. His head falls back against the chair as he sighs, completely resigned to his fate. A moment later, a hand in his hair yanks it back up, and he curses under his breath. “Watch it!”

“Mmmm,” Ari tilts her head, that wicked grin returning. “I don’t think I will.”

She knocks his knees apart with the tip of her toe, still holding his hair just tight enough to let him know there’s no point in a fight. The movement reveals his cock, red and swollen against the glinting metal that surrounds it.

Her eyes flicker over the sight, near unreadable alongside her low voice. “And how is mommy’s favourite little fucktoy doing?”

“Don’t call it that. It’s not a toy.”

“I’ll call it whatever I want, it’s mine.”

“It’s not yours, you devious little harl—hhssss!”

His hips rut backward as he hisses, trying to get away from the foot now pressed in between his legs, applying just enough pressure for it to be this side of painful. The point of her heel squeezes between the bars wrapped around his cock, pressing in on his swollen, sensitive flesh. The cuff at his wrist rattles, and he lets out a growl—much quieter this time—as he tugs it one, two, three times, before giving up and sagging back down, muscles tense and waiting for more.

“Care to try that again, baby boy?” She murmurs.

He lets out another quiet chuckle, hair falling in his face as he takes a moment to collect himself. Her heel continues to press in through the cage, a slight twist to it that moves further with every second he chooses not to speak.

And yes, he chooses not to, and he doesn’t bother to hide it as he looks back up to her, a lazy smile across his face.

“You’re absolutely bastard like this, you know that?” He asks. Ari tuts, and her heel twists just that little bit more, catching the skin near the head of his cock.

“You haven’t seen bastard me,” she tells him quietly. “If I were bastard right now, I would have gagged you and made you crawl on your hands and knees and beg for me to lash your ass until the skin broke.” She pauses, eyes moving back to his with an almost excited glint. “While wearing the cage.”

His cock twitches in said cage, and he barely holds back a groan of protest; it will only spur her on, only give her cause to ask him to do this again. This was all for practise, all for fun, one Dom to another, and he’d be fucked if he was going to let her win out on their silent, unspoken competition.

“Now—” She sighs quietly. “Are you going to be a good boy?”

Another lazy flicker of a smile. “Yes, Mistress.”

“And you know that if you’re not, and if you’re lying to me, I’ll keep you in that cage for another day, and I’ll make you fuck me with a strap-on so you can’t feel a thing?”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Good boy.”

She leans forward and pinches his cheeks between her fingertips, hard enough to bruise. His free hand flexes, fingertips aching to reach out for her, to pull her closer, to gain some semblance of control back.

“Hmmm…” Ari lets out a thoughtful noise, eyeing the furious flush of his cheeks, the raging war behind the fallen strands of his hair. “Stick your tongue out.”

He does, and a moment later she spits, the drop landing perfectly in the center of the pink muscle.

“Swallow it.”

And again, he does. She smiles, a slow and shark-toothed one that moves along with her nails as they rake down either side of his face, not enough to permanently mark, but just enough to leave faint little lines, a reminder of exactly where he is in all of this.

She climbs into his lap, a hand pushing the strands of hair from his eyes. The force is enough for him to tilt his head back, and he watches through hooded eyes as she leans in and clamps her teeth down on his bottom lip, rolling it until blood spurts out into both of their mouths.

His hips buck at the pain, the heady sound of her pleased murmur, though he has no control over the movement. What he does control, though, is the low laugh in his chest, and the near-adoring look in his eye, and the way he leans forward to kiss her, properly this time, suckling on her tongue to make her shiver and shake above him.

“Mmmm,” she sighs into his mouth. “Maybe I should change my plans and—” He bucks his hips up again, this time aiming right at her. She dips hers out of the way just in time, never breaking the kiss. “—suffocate you with my cunt.”

“I’d like that.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

She pulls away slowly, his bottom lip caught between her teeth again. As she releases it, her hand connects with his bare hip with a sharp smack. He releases a string of violent curses under his breath, and as she climbs off him, he’s already pulling at the cuff again.

“Oh, no one likes a pouter, baby boy,” she croons to him. Her bottom lip juts out as she traces his own, and when he snaps to bite it, she quickly pulls it away. The shadows in her eyes shift and darken, until they settle on something that makes his gut tighten.

And a few moments later, the blindfold has come down and blocked out the world, the only sounds coming to him being the careful clicks of her heels as she circles him, letting him know exactly where she is as she purrs to him those three little words that send him feral:

“Let’s get started.”

*