#joyfire

You were pressed against the barrier, front row, pulse in your throat and lower, trying to breathe through how bad you needed them. All three. Right now. On the stage, on the floor, anywhere.

Then Kori’s eyes locked on you.

She didn’t miss a note. She just prowled to the edge of the stage mid-chorus, dropped to her knees in one fluid motion, and reached down. Her fingers tangled in your hair, tugging you up until your mouths crashed together. The kiss was hot, tasting like cherry gloss and sweat, and the entire crowd roared behind you but you barely heard it. She moaned into you, tongue sliding against yours while the line she was supposed to be singing vibrated against your lips instead.

When she finally pulled back, her forehead stayed against yours, voice husky in the mic for the whole venue to hear: “This one’s mine tonight.”

Roy’s snare hit like a gunshot. Jason’s low growl of a bass line dropped an octave, eyes dark and fixed on you like he was already planning how hard he was going to make you beg later.

Kori licked her lips, gave you one last teasing bite, and stood, spinning back to the mic with a laugh that promised you weren’t leaving this venue without all three of them inside you.

Your knees almost gave out. You grabbed the barrier to stay upright, soaked through, aching, counting the seconds until the last chord because the second they were off that stage they were yours.

The dressing room door slams behind you and the lock clicks like a starting gun.

Kori has you by the throat before you can breathe, her grip firm but not cruel, just enough to remind you who decides when you come tonight. She walks you backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, mouth on yours again, hotter than on stage with no audience to perform for now.

“Such a good little star,” she purrs against your lips. “Look at you, dripping for us before we even touched you.”

Roy’s behind you in a heartbeat, hands sliding under your skirt, fingers hooking your ruined panties and dragging them down your thighs.

“Jesus, babe,” he laughs, low and filthy, “you’re a fucking flood. This all for us?”

You try to answer, but Jason’s already there, crowding in on your left, calloused palm cupping your jaw and turning your face to him. His kiss is rougher, teeth nipping your bottom lip hard enough to sting.

“Use your words, princess,” he murmurs. “Tell us how bad you need it.”

“Please—” It comes out a broken whine.

Kori’s smile is pure sin. “On your knees, sweetheart.”

They move you like you weigh nothing. Roy’s hands on your hips guiding you down, Jason’s fingers tangled in your hair, Kori standing over you radiant and terrifying and so beautiful it hurts. Your knees hit the bed at the same time as your palms, and three belts clink open at once.

You don’t get time to think. Kori fists your hair, tilts your head back, and feeds you her strap (the big orange one you love) in one slow push that makes your eyes water.

Roy’s already behind you, spreading your thighs wider, sliding into you with a single brutal thrust that punches the air from your lungs.

“Fuck, there we go,” Roy groans, hips snapping forward, hands bruising your waist. “Take it so pretty.”

Jason watches for a beat, eyes dark with hunger and waits for Kori to empty your mouth with a wet plop. Then steps in and fills your mouth, thick and salty on your tongue. You choke, drool already spilling, but you don’t pull off.

Kori strokes your cheek with deceptive tenderness. “That’s it, baby. Open up for them. Let them wreck those pretty holes.”

They set a ruthless rhythm: Roy pounding into you from behind, Jason fucking your mouth in slow, filthy strokes while Kori keeps you pinned exactly where she wants you. Every time you moan around Jason, Roy curses and drives deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin loud in the small room.

Then they switch.

Jason hauls you up by the arms like you’re a doll, spins you, bends you over. He’s inside you before you finish gasping, one hand fisted in your hair arching your back, the other gripping your hip hard enough to leave marks.

“This what you wanted, princess?” he growls against your ear. “Watching us play with you like a desperate doll?”

“Yes—f-fuck, Jason—”

Roy’s in front of you now, cock slick from your pussy, pushing back into your mouth with a lazy grin. “Taste yourself, sweetheart.”

Kori moves easily, fingers under your chin lifting your teary eyes to hers. She’s stripped off the strap, thighs spread, glistening.

“Come here, love,” she coos, guiding you down between her legs while Jason keeps railing you from behind. “Make me come on that greedy tongue and maybe I’ll let you have theirs.”

You lick into her like you’re starving, her taste making your eyes roll. Her thighs clamp around your head, hips rolling, praise dripping from her lips. “S-such a good girl. Nghh! Right there, don’t stop—”

Jason’s pace turns punishing, every thrust shoving your face deeper into Kori. Roy’s back to stroking himself, waiting his turn, telling you how gorgeous you look getting used from both ends.

You lose track of time, of whose hands are where, of anything but the stretch and burn and fullness. They flip you again (onto your back this time), Kori sliding down to straddle your face while Roy lifts your hips and sinks back in. Jason kneels beside you, cock in your hand, then your mouth, then gone again as they trade places like they’ve choreographed it.

Kori comes first, grinding hard against your tongue, crying out your name like worship. Roy follows seconds later, pulling out to stripe hot across your stomach with a broken groan of “fuck, baby—”

Jason’s last. He flips you onto your stomach, drags your hips up, and fucks you through the mess Roy left, one hand between your shoulder blades pinning you down.

“Come for me, princess,” he orders, voice shredded. “Come on my cock while they watch.”

You shatter so hard your vision whites out, sobbing into the cushions, body shaking as he pumps you full and keeps going until you’re limp and beautifully ruined.

When it’s over, they collapse around you in a tangle of limbs and sweat and soft laughter. Kori kisses your temple, Roy nuzzles your neck, Jason’s fingers trace lazy circles on your thigh.

“Our perfect girl,” Kori whispers, voice warm. “Did so well for us.”

You can’t even speak yet, just a blissed-out hum, floating in the haze of always being fucked so good. And they didn't even use their piercings this time.