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[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Avatar's Body Part 2

Summary: Layla agreed to be the Avatar for Taweret but didn't expect to be rewarded. The Goddess decides to make her new Avatar in her own image as a reward. Too bad she didn't bother to ask first. Layla is overwhelmed with one thought: Pleasure.

It's Jake's turn to gets involved. Layla has been waiting months for Jake to get around to having sex with her. Even worse, Marc and Steven now seem to be abstaining from her now too. The best things are the ones worth waiting for.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Breast fucking, Nipple browth, breast expansion, clit expansion, lactation kink, lactation, exhibitionism, vaginal fingering, oral sex, blow job, rough sex, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, non-consensual body modification (magical/supernatural), biting, light bondage, and over stimulation.

Word count: 9,064 - A sexy simmer

Pairings: Jake x Layla

Part One Here. [Clicky Here to watch Marc and Steven have some fun]

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Life was complicated sometimes. 

And sometimes it was beyond complicated. 

Being the Avatar of Taweret had been exciting and fulfilling. Her own terms were followed and Taweret honestly just seemed thrilled to even have an Avatar. 

Layla was also very careful any time she did have the chance to speak with the bubbly goddess. Taweret was all too eager to find new and creative ways to try to please her beautiful Avatar. Or reward her. 

Layla was more than thankful for clever Steven Grant, who was constantly stepping in to negotiate or try to appease the goddess. Though she also had her sneaking suspicions that Steven was more than happy to play along with some of Taweret’s ‘gifts’. 

When she had first been ‘blessed’ she had spent a week navigating around Steven and even Marc’s desires. Not that she was complaining. 

To their credit, they were not just playing with her specially designed body. Both boys were more than happy to jump her as she was, and she appreciated it. It made her feel loved and desired. 

She also had to admit that there were days when she would trigger out the changes herself and surprise them with her own pounding desires. 

It all made Taweret very happy. 

And then everything had changed. A new face had made himself known and all fun and games had stopped. Who was she to demand time with her husband and boyfriend when there was a stranger in the house? 

Jake Lockley. A name that fell like a heavy stone on all conversations. They danced around him and slowly explored relationships and how to live together. 

All of that is to say that Layla had not had sex in four months and three days. Not that she was keeping track or anything. 

There were many nights of her having vivid dreams of wild excursions that left her waking up in embarrassing situations. Perhaps her own desires peeking through her carefully controlled emotions… Or perhaps a nudge from Taweret, who was starting to grumble about her ‘lack of attention’. 

She wasn’t the only one who was starting to suffer from the lack of attention. 

More than once she had woken up to find Marc stroking his painfully hard dick beside her. She gave him the courtesy of pretending to be asleep, though the show of his hips jerking and his body arching had left her own needs burning all the hotter. 

The worst moment was when Steven had rolled over in a half asleep state with his morning wood at full hardness. His hips pressed to hers as he sleepily humped against her. Her own breathing had quickened as she felt his dick slide across her thigh through their pajama pants. His moans had nearly brought her off alone. 

The only thing preventing her from rolling over and wrapping around him was the fact that she still didn’t have the go-ahead from everyone. Steven had insisted that Jake had a say in how he wanted to continue the relationship. 

She had cursed under her breath as Steven’s hips had stuttered and she knew he had cum. 

It wasn’t like Jake was going to end their relationship. They had all made that perfectly clear. And Marc had more than once argued vehemently that when and where he had sex with his wife was between him and his wife… But Jake had stayed silent on the matter and Layla had decided to give him space. 

So with a goal in mind, she had set out to get to know this new man. Find out what made him tick and determine if he even wanted to be around her. 

To his credit, he had taken to flirting with her easily. He was a charmer. Cool and determined to keep everyone happy. 

Jake was also growing on the other two. Especially with Steven, who loved how Jake listened to his opinions and respected his boundaries. 

So at five months, she started to flirt back. She could feel his eyes taking in her body as she took to wearing slightly tighter shirts and her hair up. 

She had caught him watching her once as she left the shower in a towel to retrieve her clothes. And she had smiled to herself as she let the towel drop to the floor before she pulled her panties on. Jake had made a small sound and looked away, though she had noticed the slight upwards switch of his lips before he turned around. 

Things started to build after six months of no contact. She had come to Marc with a flush in her cheeks and a pulsing need in her groin one night and he had reluctantly pushed her away with deep apologies. The look in his eye said he had wanted nothing more than to pound into her… But there was something else there. 

When she had tried again with Steven and he had turned beet red then stammered out some excuse, she was starting to grow suspicious. Had Jake forbidden them from touching her? 

At six and a half months she started to notice him watching her more and more. He had dinner with her, charming and perfect as he flirted and smiled and let their hands touch ever so gently. Each touch was enough to get her blood going. It was all she could do not to jump him then and there as he leaned in to whisper sweet murmurs of adoration into her ear. 

When she had leaned in for a kiss, he had suddenly become shy and pulled away, apologizing for being awkward. 

Yet he was there again, watching her every move as she did her best to entice him in any and every way. She had even gone to embarrassing measures to appear flirtatious and desirable. 

“He’s playing a game with me.” Layla groaned in frustration as she complained to the goddess Taweret. “I just know it. I feel like a mouse being played with by a cat!”

“A very horny cat.” Taweret nodded in agreement. “Oh, he has it bad for you. I would know. Maybe I could have a word with Hathor?” 

“No.” Layla felt bad for even bothering the goddess with her personal issues. “He’ll make his move when he’s ready… Or I’ll just jump him win him over with a fast fuck. I know he wants me. Maybe if I just come at him directly…” 

Taweret shrugged. “Are you should you don’t want me to get involved?” 

“I’m sure.” Layla immediately regretted bothering Taweret. “I’ll take care of it! It isn’t like it’s hindering me doing my job or anything. I’m just being needy.” 

“I know!” Taweret grinned. “I’ll talk to Steven! I always enjoy our conversations. He’ll tell me what’s going on and we can negotiate together!” She had a rather large soft spot for Steven. 

“No. Taweret!” But it was too late. The goddess was gone. “Damn it!” 

Now she felt mortified that Taweret and Steven were going to have a conversation over how horny Layla was. Just what she wanted. 

Maybe she could convince Jake to break before Steven got involved in trying to get her laid too. 

In desperation, she stopped wearing bras and underwear. She was small chested enough to get away with a little jiggle up front when she moved. She took to wearing tight shirts made of thin fabric that gave away more than the idea of what they hid underneath.  She was thankful that it was warm enough outside to get away with this plan. 

She also started wearing shorts that fit her form a little too well. Being uncomfortable for a few days would be worth it if she could just get Jake to admit that he wanted her. That he was fine with them having sex. 

Her plan backfired spectacularly as Marc took one look at her, let out a string of curses that could make a sailor blush then excused himself to the bathroom for the next hour. 

Steven had stammered his way through a quick hello then hurried off to the library for a study session with his books. 

Even more infuriating, Jake had simply smiled a warm hello and continued on with his day as if he hadn’t looked her over and decided she was more than enough to snack on. 

Desperation hit hard at eight months of celibacy when she shyly asked if Taweret had had a moment to speak to Steven. 

Taweret had suddenly appeared flustered. “Oh. Well… Uh… I may have… Spoken with them. It was brief though. I’m afraid there’s nothing to be done but to wait.” 

Layla raised an eyebrow at that. “Them? You spoke with them?” 

“Oh! You know…” She waved a hand as if it explained everything. “The boys.” 

“Taweret?” She couldn’t help but feel annoyed. “What’s going on?” 

“Maybe be more seductive. Is all I’m saying. You know… Dates and… sexy clothes and… Show off your naughty side.” She shrugged and was gone before Layla could even think to retort. 

So Jake wanted her to seduce him? Was that it? Was he getting off on her dancing around him like a cat in heat? 

Her shirts got thinner and tighter and smaller. She wore tight fitting yoga pants that left very little to the imagination. 

Of course this was all around the house. When she went out, she dressed smartly. Sexy for Jake was one thing. Sexy in public was… Well… She was sure Steven had a word or two to say about it… 

Not that he had any room to talk. As smart as Steven was, when things got hot and heavy, he tended to think with one part of his anatomy and it certainly wasn’t his head. 

Layla was in one of those skimpy outfits doing her best to look hot and seductive one day when Jake suddenly looked up. “Let’s go out.” 

Layla stared at him, cool and collected that he was. “Out?” 

“For a walk.” He smiled. 

“Oh. Alright.” She glanced at the window. It was late afternoon. “Let me just change real fast.” 

“No need.” He continued to look at her calmly. “We aren’t going anywhere fancy. Let’s just go as is. Before it gets too dark.” 

Layla couldn’t help but feel a little flustered as she glanced down at her outfit that left so little to the imagination. Was this part of his game? 

Shyly, she had followed him down to the street and then taken his offered arm as they made their way through town and to a nice public park that would have normally been very romantic if she hadn’t been in the middle of a crisis. 

Jake’s hand had at some point snaked around her waist and they walked together like two young flirty teens. She could feel the heat of his body next to hers and was overly aware of her appearance next to this man that was dressed in a nice shirt, pants, and a coat. Even his had was low over his eyes as he started to whistle softly. 

If she hadn’t wanted to jump him before, she was doing everything in her power not to climb on him now. Was he showing her off? Was she his arm candy? 

Her cheeks flushed as a couple passed them and their eyes lingered on her as they went by. 

When they reached a park bench that was shaded by a beautiful tree, he guided them over and they sat down. 

“I spoke with Taweret the other day.” Jake leaned back casually on the bench, his arm draped over the back behind her. 

Layla gave him a startled look. “Yeah? She um… She’s a bit of a busy body sometimes. What…What did she have to say?” 

Jake smiled for a moment. “We negotiated. Don’t worry. It was all in your favor.” He held up a hand as if calming her before she could get offended. “She had some ideas and I was able to… talk her down.” 

“Oh no.” Layla put her face in her hands. “She always has ideas. I am so sorry you had to deal with that. Please tell me she didn’t offend you.” 

Jake laughed softly and the sound quickened her heart beat. “Hermosa… I was far from offended. Perhaps a little flattered. She had a lot to say on your behalf. It was touching.” 

Layla peeked at him from behind her fingers and took a deep breath. “Thank you. For not being offended, I mean. And for… Not letting her ruin anything.” 

She felt his hand on her shoulder and her cheeks flushed again, this time as she felt her nipples harden instantly, giving away her real feelings on the matter. She was suddenly very much aware of how thin the shirt was. 

Jake leaned and lowered his voice. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed your efforts. I certainly have been appreciating the view.” 

She swallowed hard. “I might have taken it a little overboard.” 

“Not at all.” He breathed out softly and she felt his hot breath against her neck. “I was curious to see how far you might go without prompting. Just to get my attention.” 

His fingers slowly started to stroke over her shoulder, making little circles. She clenched her thighs together tightly as she tried not to imagine those circles elsewhere on her body. 

“Do I have your attention?” She looked over at him shyly. “I’m not sure how much more I could have done without… You know…” 

“Walking around naked and sitting in my lap would have certainly gotten a response.” He chuckled softly. “But this is exactly where I wanted you.” 

She blinked and glanced around. They were far from alone. It was late enough in the day where the majority of the big families were gone. Now it was mostly joggers and couples out for a stroll. “Sitting in a park?” 

“I want to show you off.” Jake moved his hand back and gently stroked the back of her neck. “And what better way to worship my goddess than this?” 

Layla’s eyes widened and she looked over at him quickly. Of course he knew. How could he not have known about the key words to unleash Taweret’s biggest ‘gift’? 

“Wait!” She pleaded. “Not here! I… I’m not dressed for this!” She could already feel the tingling in her chest. 

“You are dressed perfectly for this…” Jake smirked and sat back to watch. 

Layla shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest and her legs over one another quickly as she felt the heat start. Her nipples hardened till they felt like two perfect pebbles. She felt her arms start to rise as her breasts started to fill out. 

Trembling she whimpered as the shirt fabric stretched and tightened around her chest. “Jake… It’s going to tear!” She gasped as her breasts grew heavier with milk. It had been ages since she had let the boys have their fun and now everything felt like it was suddenly on fire. Her nipples pulsed with her heart beat and she squeezed her arms over her chest tightly as if that might hold everything back. 

The heat traveled down and she squeaked as her hips suddenly filled in and stretched the yoga pants easily. “Oh no.. Oh no….” She gasped as her vulva suddenly plumped. She could feel the fabric of her pants shift and slide into her folds. She shivered as her clit came to full attention then started to swell. 

Glancing down she watched as her groin was suddenly on full display, the fabric clinging to her and showing off her engorged parts. 

When everything had stopped, Jake gently took her arms and unfolded them, watching as her chest strained against the thin shirt. 

Layla shuddered as she felt arousal course through her and she started to feel her lubricant drip and dampen her pants. She cursed herself for not wearing any panties, not that they would have done anything. 

Jake took a moment to appreciate the view. “Stunning…” He breathed out. “Of course you were stunning before this… This is just a bonus.” He leaned in then paused, as if debating something. 

She looked at him, breathing hard under his gaze. It was all she could do to keep from squirming in her seat as she felt her clit throbbing between her folds with every squeeze of her thighs. “Jake…” 

“I have wanted to kiss you since I first laid eyes on you…” He licked his lips. “May I kiss you?” 

He was asking her for permission? She stared at him in wonder. “Please…” She whimpered. 

He leaned in and stopped just before his lips touched hers. He breathed out then closed the gap, capturing her lips in a soft and slow kiss that carefully pulled her in little by little. 

She couldn’t help but moan into the kiss. The fire in her was growing and she knew it was only a matter of time before she was delirious, if she wasn’t already there. 

He pulled back after a moment and smiled, locking eyes with hers. “You are so stunning.” 

She suddenly knew that her body had nothing to do with his desire. He had been watching her for so long. Restraining himself. He hadn’t been torturing her. He had been denying himself. 

And Marc and Steven had been going along with it. Now here she was at peak desire with nothing to do but melt for him. 

Layla felt a cool breeze on her chest and realized she was leaking milk. “Oh… Jake… I… I’m leaking…” 

Jake smiled. “I may have negotiated with Taweret a little… Worked in a new clause.” He glanced around the park to make sure no one was looking their way. A hand slowly snaked down to her lap and a finger slowly pressed against her clit and traced it down to her wetness. 

She gasped and spread her legs. “NNh!” 

“I would love to worship my goddess fully.” He whispered into her ear softly. 

A wave of pleasure suddenly rippled through her and she opened her mouth to let out a silent cry as an orgasm suddenly tore through her. She felt her milk spray and soak her shirt fully and her pants grow wetter. 

She felt hot and trembled as her nipples pulsed hard. Was it her imagination or did they look bigger? Her areola were both dark and fully visible under the shirt and her nipples strained against the fabric. 

Small gasps escaped her as each breath made her chest rise and push against the fabric more. Her nipples were absolutely bigger. Doubled in size even. 

Jake’s finger slowly stroked up and down over her clit through the wet fabric and she squeaked as her pleasure was drawn out. She felt her folds swell and press around it harder and she gasped. “What… What’s happening?” She groaned and panted heavily as her head started to swim. 

Jake made a soft sound to sooth her as his finger continued to feel her. “Just a few adjustments… Taweret thought I might like to feel a nice fat pussy around my cock.” He whispered with a smile. “I negotiated for you to feel a little more sensitive too.” 

Layla let out a squeak as her clit suddenly throbbed and pushed against the fabric tightly. She could see the outline fully as the wet fabric clinged to her. It stood tall and fat between her puffed up folds and she trembled as she imagined how it was going to feel sliding against something. 

“Nnh…” She arched and felt her chest pressing into the fabric heavily. There was a sound and Layla looked up at Jake in alarm. “Please… It’s tearing!” 

Jake shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her shoulders letting it hang down around her. 

Just in time as her shirt gave up the fight and a hole appeared in the front that quickly split side to side and her breasts spilled out fully. 

She reached up to pull the jacket closed around her and Jake stopped her. He smirked and gently parted the jacket open enough to get a good look at her. “Taweret wanted them bigger. She thought if you looked like a true fertile goddess I’d want you more. I talked her down from obscene to just a little fuller… But there was no negotiating the nipples. She wanted you to have worthy teats.” 

Layla whimpered and gasped as she saw how large her nipples were now, sitting proudly on her chest, plump and long as they dripped milk. 

The heat didn’t stop there. She groaned and licked her lips. They felt fuller and far more sensitive. In fact…

She licked her lips again and moaned as they tingled. “Ah… Oh god…” 

Jake blushed. “My idea. Sorry. I couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you.” He leaned in and kissed her again, sucking her lower lip gently. 

Her eyes rolled back as pleasure went straight to her core and she leaned in to kiss him harder. 

His finger pushed against the tip of her clit and she ground her hips upwards into his touch as another orgasm rushed through her. She could feel her milk dripping down freely now into her lap, further soaking her pants. 

Jake pulled back, the blush staying across his face beautifully as he looked at her. “Steven was right. You are hard to resist.” 

Layla groaned and looked up at him from under her lashes. “It isn’t hard to get Steven to give in.” She grinned. “You must have worked hard to keep him off me.” 

Jake laughed softly. “He was suffering, certainly. All you have to do is look at him and he’s ready to do anything to you.” 

“He’s so naughty.” She squirmed as she remembered how he had teased her on the bus. “Not nearly as obedient as Marc.” 

Jake shook his head and gently pushed her hair back. “Marc calls you his goddess and would gladly worship the ground you walk on.” 

“He’s such a good boy.” She licked her lips, savoring the sensation. “What about you, Jake? Are you naughty or do you need praise?” 

Jake smirked. “I would fuck you here and now on this bench if I wasn’t certain we’d go to jail.” 

Layla breathed out and spread her legs a little further. “Be careful what you wish for, Jake… In this state I’m likely to take you up on that.” 

He leaned in, brushing his lips across her cheek. “I’d rather watch you experience bliss.” 

Layla looked at him full this time, really looking him over. The bulge in his pants was difficult to miss. It clicked then. “Jake Lockely…” She groaned and stood up, letting his coat fall open a little as she turned towards him to give him a full look. “Denial… Is that your way? You want to feel utter and total need for me till it’s too much?” 

Jake stared at her, biting his lower lip. “I want to watch you feel pure pleasure…” 

“So why bring me out here? Where you can’t do anything?” She grinned. “No self control? You have to put up barriers or you’ll give in?” 

She moved to stand between his legs and reached down till her palm was pressed down into his groin where she could feel him fully. 

His hands flew up to grip her hips and dig in tightly as he struggled not to move. “I told you… I’m showing you off.” 

He turned her around and let her sit in his lap fully. A jogger was coming and Layla felt a sudden stab of excitement as Jake pulled his jacket open to expose her breasts fully then moved his legs to force her to spread her own. 

The jogger stopped in his place and stared at her. He was an older man and he didn’t hesitate to look her over from her milk filled tits to her swollen pussy. He smirked and gave a nod then kept running. 

Layla turned bright red as she looked back to shoot Jake a look. “You are going to get us arrested!” 

“I just think everyone should appreciate how beautiful you are.” He kissed the back of her neck and she shivered at his tender touch. “And I think you get off on this a little.” 

“I do not!” She felt his fingers slowly work along the hem of her pants. She held her breath as he slipped his hand inside and slowly worked over her folds till he found her clit and gave a gentle squeeze. “Ah… Ah!” She spread her legs fully and arched her hips up. She could see the outline of his hand in her pants as he started to slowly stroke over her clit. 

Her heart fluttered at the idea that he could easily pull her pants down and she’d be fully exposed here in the park. 

“M-Maybe… Just a little…” She panted and started to rock her hips with his strokes. “Jake… Ah… How are you not fucking me yet?” 

She could feel his dick twitch behind her each time she pushed her hips back against him. 

He groaned and pulled her closer to him so she could feel him breathing heavily. “I want to fuck you…” 

She smirked and rocked her ass against him hard. “Fuck me… Come on… Fuck me, Jake.” 

Jake’s fingers slipped down and pressed up into her as his thumb robbed over her clit roughly. “Cum for me.” He groaned into her ear. 

His other hand moved up and pinched a nipple, pulling down hard to spray her milk fully. 

It was all she needed as she doubled over in orgasm. “NNH!” She gasped as she felt her heavy breasts sway under her with each rise and fall of her chest. 

He pulled his hand from her pants, slick with her desire, and moved it up to gently slide his fingers across her sensitive lips. Still riding the throws of the latest orgasm, she shivered and parted her lips, coaxing his fingers into her mouth as she sucked them, letting them slide in and out against her lips fully. 

“I want you… Layla…” She could hear the strain in his voice as he struggled against his own desires. 

Another jogger was coming, this time a woman. Layla felt a flash of shame as she made eye contact with the woman. 

Sitting in Jake’s lap with her soaking wet and swollen pussy on full display, her leaking tits exposed, and sucking his fingers like a whore… She groaned and shuddered as she rocked her hips back against him. 

The woman looked away and kept running, though Layla thought she saw a slight smirk on the woman’s face. 

“MnhJake…” She didn’t want to release his fingers but forced herself. “We have to move.” 

Reluctantly she stood up and pulled his jacket closer around herself to give herself just a little modesty, though she didn’t close it fully. If anyone looked hard enough they’d see her breasts bouncing with each step. 

Not to mention that her wetness was more than just a little apparent. 

Jake looked up at her then swallowed. 

“What’s wrong? Afraid everyone will see how hard you are for me?” She grinned and moved her own hand down to slowly slide across her vulva through her pants. “How much you want to put your big dick in me and feel how hard I can squeeze around you? That’s why you made it so fat right? To feel me clench and take you in?” 

He stood up and flushed as his dick shifted in his pants. “Do you speak to the others like that?” 

She leaned in with a grin. “I speak to each of you how I think you want me to speak to you. Steven’s the one that dirty talks me. I think you’re the one that needs the dirty talk.” 

Jake adjusted himself and moved to pull her close as they started to walk back. It was going to be a long walk and Layla wondered if this was part of his plan. Feeling that painful desire building with each step till it was all he could think about. 

She had no intention of making this easy for him. “I’m going to cum from just walking… Jake… Ah… It’s squeezing my clit…” She groaned and let her folds rub against her clit fully with a gasp. 

Jake was breathing hard and she moved to wrap an arm around his waist, leaning against him as they walked. Every other step caused her breasts to sway heavily, her nipples rubbing against the inside of the jacket slightly. 

“All I want to do is kiss you…” She licked her lips with a groan. “Or maybe you had other plans for my lips…” She flushed. “I’ve been told I give a pretty good blow job.” 

Jake groaned and she realized his dick was rubbing over the seam of his pants with each step. His eyes were hard as he struggled to keep his focus and control. 

She glanced around then quickly grabbed his hand and pulled him off the path. “You aren’t going to make it, Baby.” She pulled him behind some large bushes and dropped to her knees. 

“What-...Wait!” He gasped as she grabbed his fly and hastily undid the snap and zipper. She stopped and looked up at him, licked her lips. He stared down at her and she shrugged his jacket off. 

“Tell me to stop and I’ll stop.” As much as she wanted him, she wasn’t so far gone that she wouldn’t respect his wishes. 

Jake gave her a conflicted look. Did he not think he deserved this? Was that why he was forcing himself to abstain? Or was there more? 

She smiled and wondered if maybe he was too embarrassed to even ask for what he wanted. She had once been in the same boat. Lucky for her Taweret had quickly snuffed out all her insecurities in regards to what she wanted. 

She thought about the changes Jake had made and slowly lifted up her breasts, pressing them together. “Go ahead… Do it.” 

Jake swallowed and his hands fumbled at his pants for a moment then he groaned as his dick was freed, pulsing and dripping heavily in need. 

“Layla…” He slowly let the tip rub against her breasts then flushed as it slipped between them easily. His hands went to her shoulders and she groaned as he let his dick slide against her. 

Normally she was too small to give a proper tit job and she found herself savoring the sensation as she pressed her breasts together around him. She let out a soft moan then leaned down and kissed the tip of his dick as it pressed upwards. His gasp was all she needed as she quickly wrapped her lips around him and suckled, sliding her breasts up and down along his shaft. 

She was lost in the sensation of sucking him and feeling him against her chest. The world could have exploded around her and she wouldn’t have noticed. Her own lips were alight in pleasure and each squeeze sent her milk spraying out heavily. It was only when Jake’s fingers curled into her hair that she became aware of him thrusting hard enough to rock her back on her knees with each push. 

His cock twitched and she sucked him in fully as he started to cum. She swallowed what she could before he pulled back and finished across her chest, adding to the wet mess there. 

He was panting hard as he looked down at her. “You are amazing…” 

She reached down and started to stroke her own clit. “Ah… Jake… I want you… I want you so much.” 

Jake smirked as he tucked his partially hard dick back into his pants. “Not here.” 

He helped her to her feet and wrapped his jacket around her again. “Come on, hermosa…” 

She groaned as she walked beside him, fully aware that not only was she on display, but that she was now covered in his cum. She was his and anyone that looked at her would know it. 

She flushed as they approached the apartment, hoping that none of her neighbors would be out. 

At the same time, she let his jacket hang open just a little further as she stepped into the building. 

Just her luck, the main carrier was in the lobby sorting through the daily mail. 

Jake walked past them easily then waited at the elevator. 

Layla hesitated. This was someone she had the potential to see again. Steven knew the mail carrier’s name for heaven’s sake! She couldn’t leave a bad impression on someone they knew! 

She hunched up a little and pulled the jacket closer then hurried past. 

“Good evening!” The carrier looked up. 

Jake gave his best smile, very much aware of how to play the part. “Good evening.” He waved in a manner not unlike Steven, his accent not quite hitting home but getting close enough to make Layla pause as she stared at the man she had just sucked off. 

He winked at her. 

Layla hoped the carrier didn’t notice how soaked her pants were… Among other things. 

The door opened and Jake slipped inside then pulled her in quickly as he hit the ‘close door’ button. 

Layla chuckled and leaned into him. “You’re good at that.” 

“Interactions?” 

“Playing Steven.” She laughed. 

“Mnh. I can play the part when needed.” He smiled and reached down to let his fingers slide over her clit. “Though I’m not as fixated on some things as Steven is…” 

Layla flushed as she suddenly thought about Steven’s oral fixation. If her clit was always this swollen, he’d latch on and never let go. The thought made her moan and she rocked her hips against his hand. “I think I can only handle one Steven Grant session at a time… I’m here for you right now.” 

The door opened and he suddenly picked her up, carrying her towards their apartment. His eyes never left her. Intense and deep in thought. 

Layla suddenly wondered what Jake wanted. He had made them all wait so long. Perhaps he was figuring it out too. She knew how to please the others… But this man was patient and his self control was alarming. 

A new fire suddenly burned in her as she realized she wanted to see this man lose that control. 

“Are you going to fuck me now?” She bit her lower lip, unable to hide her eagerness. 

He smirked as he shifted her into one arm and unlocked the door. 

He carried her inside and set her down gently. His jacket was tossed aside and he gripped the remains of her shirt and ripped them off her in one motion, making her gasp. Next he helped her peel her pants off slowly. The way the wet fabric tried to cling to her made her shiver. 

Naked and finally fully at his mercy, she started to head towards the bed. He stopped her, holding her hand gently. She gave him a questioning look as he guided her over towards a chair and had her take a seat. 

She swallowed hard as he held up one of his silk ties. “Do you trust me?” 

She nodded, her mind racing now. He gently slipped it over her eyes and secured it around her head. Once satisfied he stepped back and she could hear him moving around the apartment and rummaging in places. 

Something cool touched her ankle and she couldn’t help but jump. His hands slid up and down her leg to settle her back down. She even felt a whisper of a kiss against her inner thigh. 

When he pulled away she realized he had been distracting her. Her ankles were tied securely to the legs of the chair. 

Her heartbeat quickened as she felt the rope wrap up to her thighs and with a tug, her thighs spread wide and were secured apart. 

“Jake…” It was a question, warning, and statement all at once. 

His fingers ghosted over her arms and she started to breathe faster as one arm then the other was tied to the armrest of the chair. 

He laughed. “Relax, my love.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, sucking on her lower lip for a moment till she melted into him and returned the kiss. 

“Open.” 

She flushed as she obediently opened her mouth and something soft but firm was inserted. It rested on her tongue gently and she easily wrapped her lips around it as she explored the shape. A blush broke out as she realized it was shaped like a dick. 

She sensed he was watching her and she slowly sucked it, taking pleasure as her sensitive lips worked around it. 

He seemed satisfied and something metal was placed in her right hand. “Hold this. If you want me to stop at any point, drop it. If you drop it by mistake, I will stop. So make sure you got a good grip. Okay?” 

She worked her fingers over the small metal object. It was like a baton and she wondered if it belonged to Steven. Once satisfied that she had a good hold, she nodded in affirmation. 

She felt him lean in and whisper softly. “Thank you, my goddess.” 

She made a sound of surprise as her body slowly returned to normal. “Mnh?” 

Her confusion was quickly interrupted as he pinched one of her nipples between his fingers and rolled it. Much smaller, it was still sensitive and slick. 

“Mnh!” She arched her chest as he rolled both her nipples and pulled gently, working them over. 

She moaned and breathed deeply as he manipulated her small chest. He let go and she was only given a moment to squirm before she suddenly felt a sharp pinch and light pain in one nipple and then the other. 

She made a sound as the pull didn’t stop and neither did the sensation. Her eyes widened as she tried to see around the blindfold. Clamps. He had put her nipples in clamps! 

She thrashed her upper body and felt a heavy weight pull on her nipples and she instantly knew that the clamps had some sort of weight attached to the end of them. 

She sucked on the fake dick in her mouth to distract herself from the pain till it faded and turned into a dull ache that made her want more. 

Jake’s hands moved up her thighs and rubbed small circles as they inched higher and higher. She groaned and arched her hips as he stroked over her still wet folds. A finger pressed into her and she felt him curl it until he found that one spot that drove her crazy. 

She moaned around the dildo and breathed heavily as he continued to prod and stroke it. The metal in her hand was clenched tightly for fear of dropping it. Something about him manipulating her body at its most vulnerable and pure state was driving her crazy. 

His other hand found her clit and started to massage and roll it under a firm finger. So much smaller but still tender, she rocked her hips against his hands, breathing hard through her nose as she felt an orgasm approaching. 

Just as she was about to reach the peak, he pulled his finger from inside her and gripped her clit tightly between two fingers. She squeaked in confusion then let out a muffled scream as a sharp pain radiated out from her clit. The pressure continued and she thrashed her hips as she still fell over the edge into a hard orgasm. 

She heard him breathe out and felt him sit back from her, watching as her body tensed and jerked. 

Panting hard, she carefully moved her hips and felt the same weighted clamp hanging down from her clit. 

“I could leave you like this all day.” He breathed out. “You are so beautiful.” 

He reached out and flicked the weight on one of the nipple clamps, making her squeal as it pulled and swayed. 

“Did that feel good?” He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Do you want to feel better?” 

His fingers lazily played over her groin, flicking the clamp and stroking down her vulva gently. 

She groaned and nodded eagerly. 

“I would love to worship my goddess right now.” She could almost hear the smile as he said those words. 

She sat in confusion for a moment then suddenly realized what was about to happen. “Mnh… Mnh! MNNNGH!” 

The clamps felt tight and tighter as her nipples started to swell and the weights pulled down as her breasts filled and grew out. Milk dripped down the weights and she let out a sobbing moan against what she knew was coming as her vulva started to swell and her clit started to push out. The clamp strained and pulled downwards. 

She felt tears running down her face as her body quivered in need and it was all she could do to keep from clenching her teeth down on the dildo in her mouth. She felt the metal rod in her hand slip and she panicked, gripping it harder to keep from dropping it. 

When the changes settled, she sat in the chair trembling. She barely had time to relax when he flicked the clamp on her clit then pulled gently on the ones on her nipples. 

She thrashed despite how it made the weights jostle and pull harder. 

Jake pulled the dildo from her mouth and captured her lips in a rough kiss that she returned eagerly. 

“Please… Oh please, Jake…” She groaned and panted. “Fuck me… Fuck me!” 

The dildo was shoved back into her mouth and he pulled the clamp on her clit sharply till it came off with a painful snap. 

She screamed then thrashed as he massaged her clit roughly. She orgasmed hard then shrieked as he snapped the clamp back into place firmly. 

Pain and pleasure surged through her and she dug her fingers into the metal rod so hard that she thought she might snap it. 

Jake leaned in and kissed the side of her neck, nuzzling and breathing deeply. “Beautiful… Oh Layla…” 

She flushed as she realized Jake was getting off on just watching her. She reached out with her free hand, trembling against the rope restraints. She wanted to touch him. She wanted to feel how hard he was. 

He moved and she felt something warm and soft press against her cheek. She leaned into it and gasped as she realized it was his cock. 

“Mnh… Mnnnh…” She wanted to swap out the dildo for the real thing. 

“Not yet, beautiful…” He grunted. “I’m a little worried you might get over zealous and uh… bite down.” 

“Mnh!” She grunted angrily at him. She surely had more control than that. 

“I would love to worship my goddess fully.” He brushed her hair back and kissed her forehead gently. 

Layla had almost forgotten about the new additions. Panic filled her as she felt the clamps strain and pinch harder. She squirmed and trembled as she at first tried to hold still then thrashed as the clamps bit into her swollen and tender nipples. 

Her hips jerked as she felt the weight pull down on her engorged clit. The steady tug sent waves of pleasure through her and she gasped as she jerked her hips, seeking more. 

Her lips worked over the dildo as they too puffed up and became sensitive. Another orgasm slowly worked through her and she jerked as she rode it out, craving more. 

She became aware of Jake watching her and she shivered as she steadied herself. Slowly, she started to move her body, letting her hips move seductively and letting the weights on her nipples pull down harder as her milk flowed steadily. 

She could hear Jake’s uneven breathing as he watched her. She made an effort to work her tongue over the dildo enticingly, moaning as she sucked. 

“Fuck.” Jake pulled the dildo from her mouth and kissed her passionately, tilting the chair back slightly with his force. 

She wanted nothing more than to wrap her legs around him and pull him in closer. She wanted him inside her. 

The chair slipped and she started to fall back. She thrashed and braced herself as best she could when the chair jerked and froze. Jake had caught her easily. He gently lowered the chair back till she was laying back with her legs up. 

She whimpered and moved her hand, showing him that she was still holding the rod tightly. “Mnnnn…” 

She felt Jake move around her then a warm wet tongue was suddenly sliding against her throbbing clit. 

Her thighs trembled and strained against the ropes as his tongue worked against the clamp then down through her slick to push up into her, his lips pushing and moving against the weight pulling her clit down and to the side. 

The sounds she made were absolutely desperate and animalistic as she moved with his tongue. 

She was almost thankful for the dildo to keep her from begging and saying almost anything to keep him going. 

His tongue carried her through another orgasm and she felt her body starting to creep towards being overwhelmed. 

Feeling her insides tremble and clench he pulled back and there was a moment of her laying back and trying to catch her breath before the ropes suddenly gave and she tumbled out of the chair. She lay back for a moment, still clutching the metal rode desperately. 

She felt him move between her legs and lift her hips up. The weight on the clamps shifted and pulled in a whole new direction, making her whimper. 

Skin on skin sent a thrill through her and she instantly wrapped her legs around his waist. She felt his dick rest at her entrance and she hardly hardly had time to beg before he thrust into her. 

It didn’t matter how well she knew this body. It didn’t matter if she was used to his dick or hands or muscles. From Marc to Steven, she could swear that they all felt different. Now, as Jake pushed into her, she could have sworn that he somehow managed to reach deeper into her than ever before. 

He rolled and pulled her up to sit in his lap, straddling him. The weights jerked as they shifted direction and her clit pressed up against his pubis roughly, sending jolts of pain and pleasure through her with each thrust. 

Her breasts bounced and caused the weights to swing violently and she arched, throwing her head back to let them move freely. The dildo was pulled from her mouth and tossed aside as he captured her lips roughly then sucked on her lower lip sharply, taking a small nibble as he grunted. 

She let out a long strain of words in one of the many languages she knew, though if asked later she couldn’t even begin to tell him what she’d said. 

Her babbling only grew more desperate as he kissed down her neck and nibbled on her collarbone. Hands found her breasts and massaged, pulling and flicking the clamps and weights sharply. 

He ducked his head down and kissed across her breasts, licking over her nipples lightly before he nipped sharply, making her squeal. 

Her eyes widened. “Oh god… Jake… Are you… Nnh!” She gasped out as he sucked on her chest roughly, letting his teeth brush her skin then letting go with a loud sound. She knew that was going to leave the darkest of hickies. He was a biter! 

Part of her laughed inside about how Steven was a sucker and Jake was a biter. She didn’t know if she was going to survive this system. 

He groaned and fell on her like a starving man, hands working across her and hips thrusting into her desperately as he bit and nibbled across her chest and neck. 

She reached up with her free hand and pulled the blindfold from her and groaned as she watched him arch and move against her, his back muscles tight and coiled as he pressed into her harder. 

She could feel her clit throbbing as it slid against him and she orgasmed hard, clenching down on him tighter than she could ever remember doing before. His hips stuttered and slowed for a moment as he felt her clench on him. 

“Layla… Oh fuck…” He yanked a clamp off one of her nipples and immediately took the throbbing flesh into his mouth and sucked hard, drinking down her milk and making her let out another string of sounds that may or may not have been words at some point. 

He pulled the other clamp off and rolled the freed nipple between his teeth gently before sucking hard. 

“Jake… Please… Cum… Cum for me… Oh god…” She clutched at his back and let out a shuddering gasp as he left another mark on her, deep and purple. 

A hand slowly slid down to her clit and she whimpered. “No no no nononono….” 

He slowly pulled on the weight and she held her breath as she felt the pull stretch out her clit. “Please…please pleaseplease…” 

He captured her lips the moment the clamp snapped off her and she screamed against him as she was thrown into another orgasm that was drawn out each time his hips thrust against her, rubbing her painfully innervated clit between them. 

He bucked up hard and she felt him cum deep inside as she clenched on him, milking him for all he was worth. 

He collapsed against her for a moment, catching his breath before he slowly laid her back and sat up. 

She looked up at him with lidded eyes and smiled. “Jake Lockley… If you ever force us all to abstain for longer than a week again I will jump you and fuck you into the ground.” 

“Noted.” He groaned and looked down at her then lightly traced his fingers over the trail of bites and hickeys that now peppered her chest, neck, and collar. “Sorry.” 

She tossed the metal baton aside then slowly sat up, wincing as everything moved then gasped softly as she felt his dick slide out of her still clenching hole. “Oh my god we broke so many laws.” 

“Pretty sure it was just two.” Jake groaned as he was released and looked her over. “Maybe three. Hang on.” He got up and she was amazed that he could still walk. She didn’t even try to do more than sit there as she felt her body start to calm down slowly. 

He came back with a few towels and a washcloth. “You were pretty hot. We might have to revisit some of this later.” 

She smiled as he started to wipe her clean. “Turn it off, Jake. I’m just going to keep leaking all over until you switch it off.” 

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her softly. “My goddess…Thank you.” 

She sighed as she felt her body start to return to normal. “I hope Taweret is satisfied.” 

“Mnh.” He grinned. “She might be.” 

She relaxed back as the weight on her chest returned to normal and Jake continued to clean her up. “Don’t tell Steven about that extra clause… I’ll never get any sleep. He adores sucking on…things…” 

“Who do you think wrote that clause in?” Jake laughed and slowly trailed the wash cloth down her stomach. “It can be modified.” 

His wash cloth slowly rubbed across her tender clit and she jolted then looked up at him with wide eyes before slowly spreading her legs and looking down. The swollen and exaggerated vulva was gone but her clit was still fat and large, jutting out obscenely from her now small folds. 

Jake shrugged. “My peace offering to the other two for making them wait.” 

“Jake.” She flushed and watched it twitch as she fought back the desire to continue to seek pleasure. “I can’t go around with this….I can barely walk!” 

“It’s temporary.” Jake grinned and reached down to give her clit a flick. “It will go away in three days.” He mumbled something then handed her a warm dry towel. 

“...What was that?” 

“Just don’t activate the rest of it or it will take another three days.” He winced and moved to start wiping himself off. 

“Do you honestly think Steven is going to settle for just this when he could… He could drink my milk too?” There was no way that Steven was going to let this stand and they all knew it. Only Marc stood a chance of leaving well enough alone. 

“Also maybe don’t… uh… Over activate it.” Jake was suddenly blushing. “It builds.” 

“It…Builds…” She stared at him. “What does that mean?” 

“Just…Something Marc had ideas about…” Jake dried off and eyed his discarded clothes that were covered in various fluids from her, him, and her milk. He was going to need a good dry cleaner that wouldn’t ask any questions. “Until it goes down, this is your new normal. If you uh… Activate it, then you’ll grow on top of what you already have…” 

Layla went bright pink as she thought about that then even pinker as she wondered why Marc might have ideas. The ideas suddenly came to her and she buried her face in her hands. “Jake… I will let this go for now… Only because I am curious and I am trusting you. But I will be having words with Taweret and all three of you later.” 

He grinned and leaned in to kiss her. “I’ll tell them to be gentle.” He kissed her again then smiled. “Come… Let’s get you cleaned up properly.” 

She smiled and let him lift her up. “I’m going to buy you some better toys for later, Jake… I have ideas of my own.” She grinned and headed to the shower. 

He watched her go for a moment, a small smirk on his face that made her feel once more like a mouse being toyed with. 

She didn’t mind. 

She couldn’t wait to see what other games he had in mind for her. 

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Continue

Summary: Layla knew she was in trouble the moment she saw him. A man with that much fire inside was sure to ruin her. Layla finds out she has more needs than what Marc and Steven offer.

It's smut. What more do you want? How each boy makes love to her. AKA: Jake unleashes a mighty need.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Biting, clawing, Oral, rough sex, some impact play, and over stimulation.

Word count: 2,489 - A sexy flirtation

Pairings: Jake x Layla. Marc x Layla. Steven x Layla.

--

Layla had come to realize that how she initially met each of them was going to be a strong indicator of the passion they each brought with them. 

Marc she met in the hot dry desert. Gun at his hip, fists forever clenched, sweat dripping down his back and the biggest frown she had ever seen in her life. 

When she caught his eye, his lips had twitched at the sides and a single eyebrow had lifted. A tilt of his head and she felt her whole body be pulled in. 

It wasn’t long before fingers tangled in hair and muscles ached under the strain of positions she had never been in before. 

There was something about being with an older man. He was not shy. He was far from confident, afraid to hurt her and often touching her as if she might shatter or shy away from his touch… But when she dug her fingers into his back and somehow managed to grip his cock as if she could hold it forever inside her, he had let out the smallest of sounds and her world had flipped upside down. 

Making love with Marc was always a workout. His biceps would strain and bulge as he lifted her. His highs would clench as he worked to push in as deeply as possible with every thrust. Even his frown turned into something etched in stone as he gazed at her with such focus that it made her shiver. 

His grip on her was always tender and precise. Never wanting to accidentally squeeze her where it might pinch or leave a bruise from lifting her in a tender area. 

He would curl his body to rest his lips at her neck as his hands worked over her backside and up her spine. Her gasps would be short and fast as he bucked into her with enough force to steal her breath away. His own grunts drove her to pull him closer, wrapping her legs around his hips as she rode him. 

The only part of her that ever ached after sex was the part that counted. She would never tell him for fear that he might stop. He was too cautious like that and she longed for that ache. It was the only time when she could feel him release that tension and build up of energy. 

His hips would stutter and then she would feel him move inside her and it was over. 

Afterwards he would clean her up, gently and tenderly caring for her body. A loving kiss placed at each place he might have gotten too rough with. The frown would be gone for just this moment, replaced by the most devoted love she had ever felt. 

Steven she met as he lay curled on the ground and gazed up at her with awestruck eyes and confusion. 

Light, delicate, and soft fingers slid from her shoulders to her hips and slowly nestled there as if they had found home at last. 

The first time she stood naked before him, she had held her breath as she wondered if she could do this. Same body, different man. 

Fears of him being too timid and shy were cast aside as he drank in her form like a man finding an oasis in the desert. 

She could see the hunger fill him and a new curiosity opened up. Here was a man that solved puzzles in a matter of minutes. A man that took the unknown as a personal offense. 

She smiled and gave a small nod to tell him it was alright and he had taken exactly ten seconds to slide his hands feather light over her, mapping out her body before he had fallen to his knees and pulled her in to drink from her oasis. 

Her fingers wove into his curls and clutched as he buried himself and his tongue into her. That clever tongue negotiated her folds till she was gasping and trembling on her feet. His lips wrapped around the most sensitive parts of her and it was all she could do not to collapse in on him. 

An unchecked moan from her had been all the praise he needed as he unleashed all the skill Steven Grant contained. Coaxing the first orgasm from her, he gently eased her back to the bed and moved up to map the rest of her out with his lips. 

By the time his cock found home she would be babbling a string of ‘oh please oh please’ in at least three languages. 

She was never sore after Steven, but she was utterly useless. He could coax her into the most relaxed state until she lay on top of him with nothing to say but a soft hum of approval. 

He would lay under her, a silly grin on his face as he cuddled her close and stroked her hair. 

She had not known it then, but the first time she met Jake he had looked up at her with the most protective burning fire she had ever seen. It had taken her breath away and given her pause as chaos erupted around them and he stood the sole victor in a field of destruction. 

Just like that, he had been gone again and she felt her stomach clench. 

Now, much much later, she stared at this man that had done everything under the sun not to be known. It felt like she had sold her soul just to know him and be standing there now. 

She shivered and her nerves almost gave out on her and she realized it was time to know him at long last. 

He had the nerve to stand there, casual with his hands in his pockets as he gazed at her. Unreadable except for the small upturned twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

She could play coy too. 

Turning her back to him, as if to say she did not care to see him, she pulled off her clothes, piece by piece and tossed them aside. 

There, exposed and vulnerable, she waited. This man was skilled in stealth. He was the last line of defense. He was the pillar the other two stood on. He was also capable of disarming a man in the blink of an eye and wiping out legions of people without a second thought if he felt threatened. 

She jumped when she felt a single finger start at the back of her neck to trace her spine. 

A hand worked around her collarbone and slowly down to her sternum before cupping her breast over her heart. A thumb lazily traced her areola till her nipples stood out at full hardness. 

She felt him breathe against the back of her neck and slowly press in closer, naked and relaxed. 

He shifted and she felt his cock shift against her backside. A hard swallow and she suddenly felt like she didn’t know this body at all. Was he taller? Was he somehow thicker? 

His other hand slid across her hip and dipped down till her thighs parted on their own. 

He breathed deeply and she felt her desire give her away as he felt how wet she was. Slowly, agonizingly, he worked his fingers into her, tracing every part of her till she started to make small gasping sounds. 

A brief moment passed when she thought he might bring her off right there as his fingers pressed in deeper. The moment came to a screaming halt when a sharp flick of his nail on her tender nipple caused her to let out the smallest of squeak. 

Indignation was overruled as he felt her clench down on his fingers tightly and her desire dripped down his hand. She could feel him smile against the back of her neck and she instantly knew she was in trouble. 

“W…Wait…” She felt her mind race as he slowly rolled her assaulted nipple gently then slowly pinch and pull. “Ah… Ah…” She arched and felt his fingers start to work inside her again. 

“Tell me to stop and I will stop.” He whispered in her ear. “Tell me to continue and we’ll see where this goes.” 

She gazed down at his hand, still holding her nipple ransom and on the edge of pain and pleasure. She bit her lower lip and clenched on his fingers again. “Continue.” A whisper with a quiver. 

He released her nipple and for the briefest of moments she thought he might have changed his mind. His hand only dipped down to join the other one and she gasped as the same fingers carefully circled her clit. 

Her eyes widened as he gently rolled it and she felt her heartbeat increase as he ever so slowly started to pinch and pull. 

Another squeak as he pulled and held. 

Her hips jerked, waiting for him to keep going and he shifted to hold her still. Her breathing turned into a pant as she struggled to pull from his hold or get him to keep moving. 

“C…Continue!” She gasped out and he flicked her clit in reward then gently started to massage it again. 

Her knees gave out and he caught her in a whirlwind, letting her flop back onto the bed with her knees over the edge and him standing over her between her spread thighs. 

He smiled down at her and slowly licked his fingers. A slow smile as he looked her body over like a man deciding where to start his meal. 

She clutched at the sheets and looked up at him, suddenly feeling more exposed than she had ever been in her life. She wanted more. 

Slowly, she spread her thighs fully and reached down with a hand to part her folds for him, letting him have a full view of her most vulnerable area. 

“Again…” Her voice trembled, unsure if this was something she really wanted. 

His eyes locked onto hers as his hand moved down. A finger slid across her clit gently then suddenly snapped and flicked sharply. 

She squealed and felt her whole being jolt. Every part of her screamed to slam her thighs closed and protect herself. Her hand trembled and she kept herself held open. 

When she could safely speak she licked her lips. “Again!” 

Lightning. 

She was aware of her body moving on the sheets, arching and squirming as she fought against the urge to flee and the sudden desperate desire for more. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear herself screaming for more and each time she was met with a horrible pleasure that rushed through her. 

When her hand could no longer hold position and her hips bucked out of her control, desperate to get away and searching for more, she felt his hands move up to her breasts. His fingertips worked into the muscles there, releasing tension she didn’t even know she had and making her cries turn into moans. 

If she thought he was taking pity, she was mistaken. 

His cock pressed and slowly spread her open with agonizing control until her over sensitive clit was pressing against his pubic bone. 

He didn’t thrust. Holding still, his eyes closed and his lips parted in a hissed sigh as he felt her muscles flutter around him. 

Sharp pain in her nipples made her tense further as he pinched and pulled her. He was working her like a puppet master. Every shift of his cock, every pinch and pull, he savored the way her body responded around him. 

He leaned in closer and she pressed her mouth to his shoulder to stifle a moan. 

Another pinch and she parted her lips. His body tensed as she sucked in flesh and her teeth found purchase. 

Ashamed, she pulled away and cried out at the purple and red mark she’d left behind. 

“Oh… Oh god. Jake! I… I didn’t mean to!” 

He stared down at her and there was a new fire there. His lips turned upwards and he rotated, pulling her on top of himself. “Continue.” 

She stared down at him as something inside was suddenly unleashed. 

Shifting her hips forward, she straddled him fully and clenched hard. Fingernails dug into his hips until flesh was red and bruised. She arched and leaned forward, kissing down his chest until she felt her teeth brush a nipple. She sucked then bit. 

The sounds he made were like a drug. She needed more. 

Somewhere she was aware that perhaps she should consider the state she was leaving behind for the other two… Gentle and caring Marc, curious and lusty Steven… But right now she was with this beast and she demanded more. 

His fingers left bruises at her hips as he pulled her closer and closer. 

His own lips left dark purple marks as he traced her curves. 

When her body could handle no more, he came inside her, reaching down to pinch and roll her clit as he pushed her through and past her limit. 

It was some time later when she became aware of herself and her situation again. 

Her face was smashed into his chest, surrounded by bite marks and hickies where she had savaged him. Slowly lifting herself up, she felt him slide out of her and she groaned as she slid off him to collapse at his side. 

He sat up and looked down at her with surprisingly gentle eyes. She blushed and looked up at him with an open smile. “I am not going to explain this to the others. That’s on you.” She traced a hand over his blemished chest. 

“Let them wonder.” He smirked and pulled her up, carrying her to the bathroom where he washed her and tended to any areas that might have gotten a bit more abuse than needed. 

When all was clean and only the traces of his chaos were left behind, he was gone again. 

“What in the hell…” Marc stared at her then looked down at himself. The familiar fog that Jake always left behind slowly lifting from his eyes. 

She could only smile and shrug as she left him to trace the marks and scrapes left behind. 

He let out a long and drawn out sigh that boarded on a growl. “Steven is going to kill him.” 

She sat on the bed and slowly spread her legs. She had an ache inside that she needed filled. “I’ll make it up to him.” 

Marc frowned and stared at her in disbelief. “I’m not going to beat you up, Layla.” 

“I’m not asking you to.” She watched him. His fists clenching and his muscles coiling. “But I am asking you to do what you do best.” 

He looked at her and she could feel his walls melting away. “Oh yeah?” 

She waggled her eyebrows at him and tilted her head. 

“Oh baby…” It was all the invite he needed. 

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

FROM CHAPTER 13: RED FLAGS Commission done by the talented @guruan | see also: First Date (Steven) and The Fish

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Rituals

Summary: Everyone has their pre and post rituals for battle. Isn't it time someone took care of Marc? Frenchie steps up to tend to his wounds and bring him back out of a post battle haze. Hurt comfort with some sexiness mixed in for fun.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Oral , wound care, mild talk of battle and violence, mild mentions of blood. Some dissociation.

Word count: 8,700 - A pocket of love.

Pairings: Marc Spector x Jean-Paul "Frenchie" Duchamp

~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~

They knew him at the strip clubs. 

The ladies flocked to him, screaming his name as he stepped through the doors, arms spread to greet them with a grin. 

He knew all their names. At least he knew their stage names. He would coo their names as they sat next to him, arms around his shoulders with a fancy drink in his hand. He often made a habit of ordering his drinks based on which lovely lady was sitting with him that night. 

Stage names often were like that. 

Lemon-Drop was the one that got him into trouble the most often. She was a pretty gossip who was far too perceptive for her own good. 

She was the first one to notice that when Jean-Paul came into the club, he wasn’t there to grope the girls. 

He came in on paydays. Any time he had more money lining his pockets than he was comfortable with, he’d hit the clubs and hand out the cash like it was nothing. He liked to think it was paying some girl’s way through college or helping a tired mom keep her kid off the street. Keep people from falling into his way of life. 

More so, he did it for the company. He didn’t care about the skimpy g-strings or peekaboo lingerie. When the topless dancing started, he’d hand over his stack of cash and sit back, chatting with the ladies at his side. 

Sure, he’d watch the shows. He found their dancing to be beautiful and far too talented. He liked when they spun on the pole and clapped when they did gravity defying stunts. But his whistles and cheers hardly held the lust that the other men in the club brought with them. 

Especially the other men that came in with similar garb. The sand crusted rough clothes that smelled of gunfire and foul things that were better left in the desert. 

The girls had long learned to ignore the blood crusted under the nails and the cuts and bruises across their faces. These were men of fortune and what did they care so long as the fortune ended up in their pockets? 

The ladies had long learned which of the men to keep their distance from and which of them just needed a warm touch and gentle reminder that they were still alive. 

Jean-Paul was absolutely on the side that needed that gentle reminder. His laugh and smile longed for friendship. His hands touched skin looking for softness and warmth and never dove for the places that made the girls cringe. 

Only the more seasoned girls recognized a man with something to hide. What did a man that fought wars for money have to hide? 

Lemon-Drop figured it out the second she saw the other man walk into the club. 

Marc Spector. Marc never visited the club on his own. He only arrived when the unit came together, often dragging him along with them with instances of him loosening up and enjoying himself for once. 

He was certainly a handsome one. The kind of face that broke hearts and left scars across young and naive emotions. His sullen dark eyes tugged at the desire to draw him in and hold him close. His frown that was desperately trying to turn into warm smile certainly made more than a few on-the-house drinks appear at his table. 

When Marc walked through the door, the younger girls would flock to him with dreams of a fat tip and perhaps a chance to melt that cold shoulder. Lemon-Drop smiled as she thought about the betting pool that had been started to see who could get Marc to smile and crack open for them first. 

Considering many of them thought Marc was secretly a millionaire looking to be someone’s sugar daddy, it was any wonder that Marc didn’t get every girl in the house suddenly fighting for his lap the second he sat down. 

Marc was not as easy with his money as Jean-Paul was. Marc stayed in the back near the bar and only nodded to the ladies on stage if they happened to catch his gaze. When a girl snuggled up to him for a little one on one attention, Marc would sit back and give her his full attention, his dark eyes taking her in like she had a spotlight on her. 

Lemon-Drop had to admit that his attention was addictive. He would offer soft compliments and slide the bills gently across the table. If he had to touch them, his fingers would float lightly as he gently tucked a folded bill securely into place as if he were afraid she might lose it. 

It was all a mask. You didn’t have to get that close to notice that Marc Spector often held more cuts and bruises than the other men. His hair was always wind blown and he tended to smell more like blood and gunpowder than the others. He was a man that got too close to the fire and didn’t know how to avoid getting burned. 

So what did Marc have to hide? What made him sit in the booth time after time as he downed the booze and looked for all the world like a man that would rather be left alone? 

Lemon-Drop was trying her luck with Marc one night, bent over and waiting for those gentle fingers to slide a large bill into her thong when she spied Jean-Paul across the room, his eyes locked onto Marc and filled with the lustful gaze that was often directed at her. 

Oh. Jean-Paul fell into place in her mind. She had seen it before. The kind of man that visited a strip club or brothel with no desire to partake of the delights found there. 

Yet there sat Marc, his eyes focused on her like she was the only thing left in the world. A centering point. Something that he could latch onto and try to be present with when he looked as if every ounce of his strength and concentration was being forced to staying where he was and keeping her in his sights. 

Oh. 

Her heart dropped and she kissed the betting pool goodbye. There was no use trying to win the heart of this man. Her youth had been wasted on broken men before. Men that were so fragile and shattered that it would take a miracle to reach them. 

Lemon-Drop sighed and she forced a smile as she turned to him. “You boys staying in town much longer? You know it makes us so sad when you run off for so long.” 

Marc nodded, not really listening. It took him a moment to realize she had actually asked him a question. He blinked and she watched as there was a visible struggle to pull himself back together. 

“We’re out first thing tomorrow morning.” He ran a hand through his hair and she glanced over to see Jean-Paul look away, forcing a laugh as he chatted up the pretty girl to his side. 

“Are you going to stay safe out there, Baby?” She sat next to him and pointed at a nasty looking gash that was scabbed over, running down his arm. “You gotta learn to doge, hun.” 

Marc glanced down as if seeing the old wound for the first time. He ran a finger over it then shrugged and looked away. “Safe as I always am.” 

“Mmnh. I think you could use a little backup.” She gently ran her fingers over the back of his neck. 

“Think our bosses might frown at me bringing you out to the field with me.” He gave her a dashing smile that could have fooled anyone that wasn’t paying attention. He was a charmer and she was certain he had charmed his way in and out of many people’s lives. 

“Oh honey, I’m not talking about me. As distracting as I am, I don’t think they’re going to take pity on me and simply roll over.” She chuckled trying to imagine where she might hide the gun. “I’ve got someone else in mind.” 

Her fingers gently slid up into his hair and directed his gaze across the room. “Know him? He looks like he’s from your unit.” 

Marc’s eyes glanced over Jean-Paul and he frowned. “Frenchie? Yeah he fights pretty good. Good driver.” 

She sighed and leaned in to whisper in his ear. “I wasn’t talking about fighting, hun.” 

Marc gave her an annoyed look. “Then what are you talking about?” 

“I make a strict rule not to get involved in personal life. As a matter of fact, I think it’s part of the contract I had to sign to work here.” She moved to straddle his lap and leaned back, giving him a full view. She doubted very much that he had intended to pay for the lap dance, but the prices were listed and he had paid for it. 

To his credit, he did stare down at her chest. The haze in his eyes told her that he was not fully seeing it. 

Lemon-Drop utilized her flexibility to bend back and caught an upside-down view of Jean-Paul. He was now watching them fully. Was he jealous? Was he watching to see if Marc was enjoying himself? Was there a chance that this was something he wanted to see? 

She leaned back up and pressed into Marc fully and ground her hips against his lap. Normally it was all about the tease. The men wanted to feel thrilled and excited. They wanted to get worked up, but they didn’t want to be exposed. 

It used to surprise her how controlled the men that came here were. It was rare to push a man to orgasm. 

She slowly started to rock her hips, pushing the boundaries as she ground down against his groin. She wanted to know if it was possible. She wanted to know if Marc Spector could feel. 

His eyes flickered and he let out a slow breath then suddenly put his hands to her hips and stopped her. “Thanks for the show.” He gently lifted her and slid her off his lap then stood up. 

He pulled a wad of folded cash out of his pocket and held it out to her. 

Oh there it was. A peak behind the mask. She smiled and took the cash then watched as he collected himself and left the club. 

Lemon-Drop stopped by the bar and ordered the drink with her name then swung over to Jean-Paul’s seat. 

“Hey stranger.” She smirked down at him and handed him the drink. 

Jean-Paul looked up at her and patted the empty seat to his side. He whispered something to the girl on his other side and she quickly left them alone. 

“Your last customer looked a little sour.” Jean-Paul took a drink. “Such a shame to not enjoy a show like that.” 

She laughed. “That one? I don’t think there is much he enjoys. I think anyone after that piece of ass is wasting their time. That one is a heartbreaker.” 

Jean-Paul took a long drink to hide the frown on his face. “I would rather have a broken heart than an empty one.” 

He paid for his drink and her time then got up, gathering himself as he waved to the other girls. If he survived till the next pay day, he would be back to pretend that he was loved and with friends again. 

She smiled and watched him go. With any luck, they would arrive at the same place together eventually. The heartbreaker and the broken hearted. 

—

Jean-Paul sat up at the door to his tent. They were set to pack up and move out at dawn. The camp was going to stay with a relief group. Mostly the men that were too damaged to do much good in this mission. It was good land and there was no sense in leaving a perfectly good camp. 

With any luck, they would all return before the week was out. Those that did not return had their personal items scavenged by those that did. It was an unspoken understanding and nothing was ever personal. 

He was already packed. Always packed. There was no sense in unloading when they would just turn around and head out again in a few days. His personal items stayed in the tent. If he came back to them then they remained undamaged or lost. If he fell in the mission then they would be passed to the next young recruit. 

In the tent across from him, another way of life played out. The guns were laid out, taken apart and meticulously cleaned before being loaded and placed into their holders. Knives were sharpened and cleaned and a uniform was dusted off and folded at the end of a bed that would not be slept in. 

A man that did not let go of a way of life that pretended to be organized and have meaning. 

Jean-Paul glanced at his watch. There was a rustling and Marc emerged from his tent in his boxers and little else. He was right on time. 

When he first noticed the nightly wanderings, he thought it was some sort of sleepwalking. A dangerous thing to do when you lived and died by the bullet. Yet the more he watched him, the less like sleepwalking it seemed to be. 

Perhaps a ritual? Marc seemed to always do it right before a battle. The tension in the air would buzz and everyone had their superstitious performances. 

The guy in the next tent would count on his rosary for hours and hours, his sins stacking up till his fingers were blistered. The old man in the tent behind his would take long cold showers, believing it kept his senses sharp and body going. Jean-Paul could hear the water in the shower stall going. The man with a missing finger three tents over would eat a single hard boiled egg for dinner and wash it down with a bottle of sparkling water. 

He’d yet to figure out the significance on that one. 

Marc wandered. He would walk out into the night and stare at the sky, completely unaware of anything around him. Sometimes he talked to himself, sometimes he just stood in one spot and stared at everything and nothing all at once. 

Eventually, Marc would blink out of it and sheepishly head back to his tent and pretend like it never happened. 

Before Marc, Jean-Paul’s routine had been to smoke half a pack of cigarettes and look at the old pictures of men he had fallen for over the years. Now, he watched Marc. 

“Heartbreaker.” He muttered around his cigarette. He could easily see the trail of carnage that Marc left behind. He was certainly handsome enough. Tall, dark, mysterious, quiet, and when he put it on, he had the most dashing smile. 

He had seen women cling to him, dance for him, beg and plead and demand to be loved. He had even seen a few men take their shot and leave wondering if perhaps they had guessed wrong. 

None of it was malicious. Jean-Paul had spent a lot of time trying to figure out if he even had a shot with being this man’s friend. To be honest, he still didn’t know. 

Yet as he watched Marc come to a stop and simply stare, he wondered how many people had seen this side of Marc. How many had simply let him drift without trying to tether him back down or lost their shit at him. 

Sometimes it was only minutes before Marc would blink and become aware of things and head back to his tent. Sometimes he would stand for hours. On more than a few occasions Jean-Paul had followed Marc out into the desert at a respectable distance, concerned that Marc might wander into a mine field or enemy territory in the dark. 

This time, Marc stood still for half an hour, his face blank as he stared at the stars. Jean-Paul had just finished a cigarette and was fishing out another when Marc turned around and started to head back. 

He paused, looking down at Jean-Paul with an unreadable expression. “Backup.” He mumbled. 

Jean-Paul blinked and glanced around as if expecting to see something that made sense of the word. 

“When you fight. I trust you to watch my back if you trust me to watch yours.” 

Jean-Paul swallowed hard and nodded, forgetting how to make any sort of sounds, much less how to form words. 

It seemed to satisfy Marc as he nodded to himself and went back to his tent. 

Jean-Paul slowly put the new cigarette away and stared at Marc’s tent. He had been working with this man for a couple of years now. They had gotten into and out of more situations than he could name. They had shared space, ridden together, covered one another, and sat comfortably next to one another in the mess hall each and every day they shared a camp together. 

They had conversations about military tactics, training, weaponry, places they had been, places they wished to go, places to avoid, food, and languages they could understand. They had even touched on religion a few times. 

How was this the first time he felt like he had ever really spoken to Marc Spector? 

He ran a hand over his hair and cursed himself for not even trying to say something back. He went back inside to try to get some rest. 

–

“That was a complete and utter shitshow.” Jean-Paul flopped back on his cot and stared at the ceiling of his tent. 

He didn’t know how much they were going to get from this job, but he hoped it was worth the amount of crap they had walked into. 

Some jobs were just like that. 

He winced as he sat up and checked the bandage on his leg. He hadn’t bled through it yet. At least there was that. 

A shower and some practice in first aid had cleared his head. Now he just needed to hope he could sleep it all away. There was still a ringing in his left ear that he really hoped would go away and every time he closed his eyes he still felt like he was moving. 

A memory came to him of Marc sitting in the back of the truck with blood staining through multiple spots of his uniform. He’d taken a bad fall and gotten into a scuff with someone with a big knife. 

There were two types of men after a mission. The loud and boisterous ones that were still high on adrenaline, and the quiet contemplative ones that were lost in what they had survived.  

Jean-Paul was the quiet type that would simply sit and contemplate the fact that he had survived another day. 

Marc appeared to be the quiet type as well, but there was something telling him that perhaps there was something more there. Something that said that perhaps Marc was lost in surviving a different battle. 

One that only he knew about. 

This particular one had been brutal for all the wrong reasons. There was no heavy gunfire or explosives or screaming. The fighting had all been very up close and personal. Fists had bruised up faces and knives had sliced through flesh. 

When the battle could be won from a distance with bullets and quick thinking, it was easier to walk away and leave it all behind. When it was won with faces sneering into faces and knuckles breaking bone, it was easy to become lost in personal traumas. 

Jean-Paul got up and before he knew it, he was standing outside of Marc’s door. Courtesy dictated that he announce himself before entering. 

“Marc? I’m coming in.” It wasn’t a question. He gave it three seconds then marched into the tent. 

Marc was sitting on his cot, leaning on his knees and looking down at his hands. If he noticed Jean-Paul, he didn’t show any indication. He was still in his uniform and he had dried and crusted blood on his face. 

“Christ, Marc.” He sighed heavily and glanced around the tent. It wasn’t the first time he had been in there, but it was the first time he was able to really take it in. 

There were no pictures up. No memorabilia or decorations. A gold necklace with the star of David dangled from a support pole next to a hand mirror where he probably shaved when he remembered to. The guns were all laid out and disassembled for cleaning. One knife sat on his trunk, wiped clean. The bloody rag was on the floor, cast aside. 

There was very little of Marc Spector in there. 

“I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.” Jean-Paul went back to his tent and gathered up supplies then stopped by the supply area and gathered up a few things. 

Going back to Marc’s tent he was not surprised to find he had not moved an inch. 

Pulling up a trunk, Jean-Paul took a seat before Marc and set down a bowl of warm water and a washrag. 

“Come. Let me see.” He gently took Marc’s hands in his and turned them over. 

Marc stared down as Jean-Paul gently wiped his knuckles with the washcloth. They were bruised and scabbed, covered in grime and dirt. 

He couldn’t help but reflect of the first time he had come across Marc. A man taking a beating that no one deserved until he decided he had had enough and he fought back. He knew the damage those hands could do. 

They had done their damage again today. 

Jean-Paul cracked the instant cool pack and shook it to mix the chemicals then gently lay it across those bruised knuckles. They would heal and harden until they were needed again. 

Next, he focused on the knife wound that ran across Marc’s forearm, just under his right elbow. A defensive wound. He could have easily avoided it, but ducking and moving out of the way would have slowed him down and prevented him from landing the left hook that had crunched in the attacker’s nose. 

Watching Marc fight was an experience. The way he moved was always so confident. He was a man that understood how deadly he could be and he was not afraid to use it in the moment. He knew the limits of the body and chose to ignore them. 

Looking at him now, Jean-Paul suddenly understood that Marc carried an unknown amount of pain and torment with him that he could unleash on the battlefield like a bomb. 

The wash cloth dabbed at the deep gash and Marc didn’t so much as exhale or flinch. 

Once clean, he gently applied a bandage. He briefly wondered if Marc would bother changing it daily or if he would have to do it himself. Glancing up at Marc’s dark eyes, he decided to just do it himself. 

“Are you injured anywhere else?” Jean-Paul slid his hand gently up to Marc’s shoulder and sighed at the blood splatter he found across his shirt. The blood mostly belonged to the people that made the mistake of getting too close. No one that decided to fight Marc up close walked away. 

Yet there was a fresh spatter along the collar that didn’t match the others. 

When Marc didn’t respond, Jean-Paul looked up and leaned in, tilting Marc’s head back gently by his chin. 

A split lip that was scabbed over. It would probably sting for a while. Nothing he could do about that now. Traces of dried blood around a nostril. The nose had been broken before, but this time it seemed to have withstood the barrage of blows. A black eye that needed ice to bring down the swelling along his cheekbone. 

A gash just under the hairline. It was trying to scab over but probably needed more than that to heal properly. 

The wash cloth was dipped back into the warm bowl of water and gently dabbed at the gash. Marc let out a hissing sound then at last flinched and pulled back, suddenly seeming to take in that there was someone else before him. 

Fists clenched and his body tensed, lost in another time as he registered pain and closeness. There was rage and fear. Marc had just spent the day fighting for his life and unleashing everything in him. Unleashing the emotional pain that was always there, threatening to swallow him whole. 

Jean-Paul recognized the look of a man trapped in a battle in his own head and knew he was about to take a punch to the face that would probably send him spinning into next week. Too close to safely backup without triggering the fight response he did the next best thing he could think of and moved closer. 

He kept his grip on Marc’s chin and tilted his head back, moving in to capture the swollen lips in a tender kiss. 

Years ago, Jean-Paul had learned that most manly men were inherently self conscious and insecure. When he found himself bullied and cornered, he would turn tactics and play into their insecurities. He’d honestly kissed more men than he could remember. It often left them stunned and gave him just enough time to get the upper hand before their rage came down on him. 

Secretly, he liked to think that some of those men still thought about him as they discovered that perhaps they were experiencing self hatred and internalized bigotry. He hoped that the next time they kissed a man it opened new worlds for them. 

Marc did not flinch or try to push him away. His breathing calmed and his body relaxed as Jean-Paul slowly explored the rough and chapped lips, tasting blood and salt there. 

Pulling back, he found clear eyes looking at him in question. 

“You looked like you needed some medical attention.” Jean-Paul shrugged and held up the wash cloth. 

Marc looked down at the bandage on his arm then reached up and touched the gash on his forehead. “Did…” Marc’s voice trailed off and he glanced at Jean-Paul as if debating something. He shook his head then sighed. “Did the battle go well?” 

Jean-Paul sighed. “Well, neither of us are dead.” 

Marc looked off into the distance for a moment as if trying to decide if that statement was true or not. “No such luck this time.” 

So he was that sort of soldier. Jean-Paul oftened wondered if Marc was a man out for fortune, glory, or death. 

He never stopped to consider what type he himself was. He didn’t want to think about it. That would be admitting something he wasn’t ready to admit. 

“Do you often black out in battle?” Jean-Paul reached up and brushed Marc’s hair back, gently dabbing at the gash again, wiping the dirt and grime from his skin. 

Marc winced then laughed softly as he held still. “You have no idea.” 

“Seems dangerous. Not knowing what’s going on around you. Do you just live off of luck?” He pulled out a special band-aid that would help pull the wound close to let it heal. It seemed a shame to mark up such a perfect face. 

Yet, his face seemed to hold old scars well. His fingers dipped down to slide over the old gash in his eyebrow. 

“Luck has nothing to do with it. There… Let’s just say there’s a part of me that disagrees with death and knows how to fight.” Marc smiled and it was dashing beyond belief. 

Jean-Paul swallowed as he stared at those lips. “You should take your clothes off.” 

Marc’s smile faltered then turned into a teasing grin. “Pretty forward of you.” 

“I mean. They’re filthy. It is unsanitary to wear someone else’s blood. Not to mention the smell.” Jean-Paul tried to recover. “Plus there could be other wounds on you. I think it’s clear you aren’t going to take care of yourself at this point. Someone has to watch your back.” 

Marc sighed and he stood up. He tossed his coat to the side then started to undo his shirt buttons from top to bottom. 

Forget the strip club. Forget the acrobatic and flexible girls that defied gravity and lustful gazes. Each slow button was enough to send Jean-Paul’s heart pounding. He felt dizzy as the shirt was shrugged off and tossed aside. 

Of course he had seen Marc naked before. The joys and pain of having to share a shower tent with his fellow soldiers. 

It also didn’t help that Marc seemed to lack any sense of the word ‘modesty’. When it was time to shower, he would often drape a towel over his shoulder and walk to the tent completely nude. Why waste time stripping there? 

Then how could he forget Marc’s pre-battle wanderings? 

Yet there was something completely intimate and soft about watching a man strip in his personal space. 

The blood left Jean-Paul’s face as Marc’s hands dropped to his pants and he undid the button and zipper. His mouth fell open to tell him it was fine to leave those on, but no words came out. 

Shoes and pants were kicked aside recklessly and Marc held out his arms for inspection. 

It took Jean-Paul a solid minute to realize that he was supposed to be inspecting Marc for injuries and not just admiring his body. 

“Uh… Looks…Looks good. Spin. Let me see your back.” He felt light headed as Marc turned and glanced back at him. 

“My shoulder hurts a bit.” Marc rolled his shoulder. “I’ve dislocated it a few times. Do you know if I had to pop it back in back there?” 

Jean-Paul shook his head then tried to think back. He pictured Marc after he had taken the blow to the head. The utterly savage look that came over his face as he took the attacker down. How he had gotten back up and stood there, dripping in sweat and blood before he moved on to the next target. 

“You stopped using that arm for a bit. You must have popped it in mid battle. You took out a whole group that got the drop on us. Probably saved my life.” He got up and moved closer, reaching out a shaky hand as he longed to touch those muscles. 

“Hm.” Marc sighed. 

“Do you really not remember?” Jean-Paul slowly looked the back over and lightly touched a few abrasions with feather light fingers. How he wished to brush his lips across them. To taste the salt of Marc’s skin again. 

Marc was quiet a moment then glanced back at him. “I’ve known you a long time now.” 

“Longer than most.” Jean-Paul had hopped companies for years. He would stay long enough to almost know the names of everyone there, then move to the next. His secrets were his own and the less he knew, the less likely he was to have his heart broken. 

The reason for staying in this company for so long was now standing before him in his skivvies and he cursed his weak heart as it pounded inside with such need. 

“I was kicked out of the Marines because I have a disorder. I lied about it to get in and they found out about it.” Marc shrugged. 

“We all have disorders out here.” Jean-Paul let his fingers ghost over a forming bruise on Marc’s side. The man was lucky he didn’t have any broken ribs. 

Marc chuckled softly and glanced down at the bruise, laying his fingers across it to test how far it went. “Some more than others.” 

“So what’s your disorder?” Jean-Paul flushed as Marc lay his hand over his and moved it down to his hip. 

“Here.” Marc winced. “Feels like I rolled through barbed wire.” 

“You did.” Jean-Paul held his breath as he slowly pulled down the hem of Marc’s boxers and found a long gash that traveled down into no man’s land. He turned to grab a tube of antibiotic ointment. 

“I dissociate.” Marc pulled his boxers down and tossed them to join the rest of his bloody clothes. “Among other things…” 

Jean-Paul nearly dropped the tube when he turned back around. “Mon Dieu…” 

“You’re telling me.” Marc muttered as he followed the cuts down his hip and across his thighs. “That was fucking close.” He lifted a leg and ran his fingers along his inner thigh. “Nearly got castrated out there. Fucking hell.” 

“Uh huh.” Jean-Paul was breathing hard. He could feel the sweat building up on his brow and he wiped it away with a shaking hand. He held out the tube to Marc and looked away at anything else but at the naked man before him. 

Marc took the tube and started to apply the ointment to his cuts, his fingers moving where Jean-Paul could only dream of. 

“You need to take better care of yourself, Marc.” Jean-Paul swallowed. “I would be torn up if you died from some stupid infection or an injury that could have been avoided.” 

“Guess I’m going to have to start relying on you to patch me up, Frenchie.” Marc grinned. 

Jean-Paul rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Honestly, Marc. I don’t call you ‘Americany’ do I?” 

“I’m from Chicago.” He held out the tube of ointment. “Would you mind?” He pointed to the back of his thigh where the last of the scrapes ended. 

Jean-Paul sighed and knelt down on his knees. He slowly slid his fingers over the gashes, working the ointment into them gently. His fingers traced the cuts over his inner thigh and slowly worked up higher. What he would give to touch and feel him. To feel the blood rush and pulse there. To feel any ounce of desire for once be directed towards him. 

He exhaled softly and ghosted a kiss across the back of Marc’s thigh. 

Marc’s legs spread slightly and a hand lay over his, holding him there. “Make sure to get it all, Frenchie.” 

Jean-Paul’s heart was suddenly in his throat as Marc guided his fingers higher till they were brushing over Marc’s dick. 

His hand was cupped and Jean-Paul let his fingers slowly curl around the shaft and squeeze. 

Marc let out a soft sound that almost sounded like a moan and Jean-Paul nearly blacked out as the blood drained from his head and pooled in his suddenly far too tight pants. 

He felt the cock in his hand twitch and he held his breath as it slowly hardened. He dared not utter a single word, terrified that he might break the spell and be sent out of the tent for luring Marc into such a situation. 

Marc’s hand squeezed around his and slowly stroked up and down the shaft, letting him feel each bulging vein and how stiff he had gotten. 

Jean-Paul slowly rolled his thumb over the head and gasped out as Marc shuddered and his hips jerked. 

Guilt overcame him as he suddenly felt an inequality in the situation. “Marc…” He pulled his hand back and stood up. “You don’t have to do this.” 

Marc turned to face him and looked him over. Marc’s face was calm and lacked any sort of hesitancy or embarrassment. “Did I misread the situation?” His eyes settled on Jean-Paul’s bulging groin for a moment then moved back up. 

“You must surely know by now that I don’t fancy the ladies.” Jean-Paul tried to hold his gaze, ready to bare his soul and be abandoned and cast out again. 

Marc raised an eyebrow. “I’m not a lady.” 

“Neither am I.” Jean-Paul flushed. “This isn’t that kind of thing. I’m not looking for a pity fuck. I’m not looking to be some man’s substitute pussy.” An old wound torn open as he recalled his first mistake and first rejection. 

Marc gave him a serious look. “I enjoy the ladies. I love their curves and I’m just as willing to get down on my knees for them as any one.” 

Jean-Paul felt his heart drop. 

Marc leaned in and breathed into his ear. “And I love men just as much. Are you going to stand there making excuses or are you going to let me suck you off?” 

Jean-Paul blushed and moved his trembling hands to his fly, struggling to undo his belt and fly quickly. 

Marc rested his hands on his and slowly pushed them away as he sank to his knees. He undid the belt slowly and parted his fly. “Keep your clothes on. I think I like this dynamic…” 

Marc pushed him back to the cot and Jean-Paul sat down heavily. He looked down at the naked man that was slowly coaxing his dick out of his pants and groaned. “Marc… Are you sure? You don’t owe me anything for helping you…” 

Marc cupped his balls and slowly massaged them. “I miss a lot of things, Frenchie. I know I’m an idiot at the best of times. I honestly would never have noticed if someone hadn't pointed it out to me just the other day. The idea that you would do all this for me and then go back to your tent frustrated and alone doesn’t sit well with me. This isn’t because I owe you.” 

Jean-Paul groaned as Marc leaned in and slid his tongue across the head of his dick slowly. 

Marc pulled back and grinned up at him. “When was the last time you got a proper blow job?” 

Jean-Paul flushed. “I’m usually the one giving.” 

Marc thought about that for a moment then laughed. “At least that means I don’t have much to live up to then. You’re my first.” 

“Wait… What?” He didn’t have time to process that as Marc swirled his tongue around the head slowly then wrapped his lips around the head and sucked, sliding down on him with ease as he focused on relaxing his throat. He felt Marc’s throat clench around him as it threatened to gag then relax and push further until he was fully in.

“Mon Dieu… Marc!” His hands flew to Marc’s hair and dug in, gripping tightly as he arched his hips up. Marc swallowed and he felt every motion of Marc’s tongue and throat move around him. He groaned as Marc bobbed on him a moment then pulled off with a wet pop. 

Jean-Paul gasped and stared down at his picture perfect wet dream as Marc licked his lips and looked up at him with a grin. He could see Marc’s pulsing erection begging for attention and slowly dripping in need. 

A string of curses left his mouth as Marc gripped his dick and started to lick him over top to bottom while his other hand rolled and massaged his balls slowly. 

If there was one thing to be said about Marc Spector, it was that he never did anything half-assed. The man took punishment like a sadist but he also strived to do anything he did like a professional. Perhaps he had some trauma in his past that forced him to want to do everything with such perfection, but at the moment, Jean-Paul could only thank his lucky stars as Marc was now setting out to give the best damn blow job in the world. 

His tongue curled and twisted in ways that should not have been possible. He found sensitive nerves and teased them, feeling the way his dick twitched and pulsed as he neared his edge then was held at bay each time Marc pulled off to lick his lips. 

He hummed and deep throated, learning quickly to breathe through his nose and then when to hold off his gag reflex when Jean-Paul couldn’t control himself anymore and bucked up, fingers tangled in the dark hair as he struggled not to force Marc’s head down. 

Even more so, Marc was in his head. The beautiful naked body between his legs, untouched and in desperate need as Marc neglected his own wants. He could feel the heat as Marc’s body begged for any sort of tender touch. He could feel the way Marc tensed when Jean-Paul squirmed and brushed against him. He watched the way Marc’s hips twitched now and then each time he pulled off and looked up at him with that almost playful smirk. 

“Marc… Marc!” Jean-Paul moaned and arched his hips as Marc once more pulled off to lick his lips and watch his friend squirm. “Cock tease!” He groaned and panted. “I cannot last much longer. I’m either going to die or I’m going to cum.” 

Marc laughed softly and leaned in, slowly licking the tip. “Which do you want? I can swallow or you can cover me.” 

Jean-Paul stared at him with wide eyes. Logically he understood that if this really was Marc’s first time, he didn’t know which was expected of him. Staring at that face, as sexy as it might have been, he didn’t want to mess it up more than it already had been in battle. Another part of him wanted to become a part of Marc. The idea of being his first… 

He gripped his hair and pulled him back in. “Swallow!” He groaned as he rubbed his dick across Marc’s lips. Marc obediently parted his lips and took him in easily. 

He came hard, gasping as he felt Marc swallow without losing a single drop. He sat back and wiped his lips. 

“Shit…” Jean-Paul sank back for a moment, breathing heavily. He looked at Marc and immediately felt regret as he remembered the split lip that must have ached and stung the whole time. 

He sat up and gently cupped Marc’s face, sliding his thumb over the swollen lips and tracing the fresh split. “Look at you… Not a care for yourself…” 

Marc blinked as if just now noticing the state of his own body. He glanced down and shrugged. “I’ve been in worse shape.” 

Jean-Paul could only stare at him, taking in everything that sat before him. If he could take a picture and keep it somewhere next to his heart forever, he would die a happy man. 

“Let me take care of you.” Jean-Paul tucked himself away and fixed his pants before pulling Marc up into his lap. 

Marc straddled him easily and looked down at him, a blank slate with no idea on what he was doing. 

Jean-Paul looked up at him and slowly slid his hands over Marc’s chest. “Hey. Don’t drift off on me. This is your body. Let me take care of it for you.” 

Marc frowned for a moment. He didn’t enjoy having a body. He much preferred to drift and not feel it. He didn’t want to feel the pain that he caused or the damage that he took. 

His eyes followed Jean-Paul’s hands for a moment before he finally relaxed and took a few slow deep breaths. He shuddered and breathed out as the first sensation was of rough fingers rubbing across his nipples that sent shivers down his spine. 

“Moan.” Jean-Paul leaned in and nuzzled his neck. “I want to hear you make sounds, Marc. Let me know that you’re feeling this.” 

Jean-Paul dipped down and kissed across Marc’s collarbone, careful to avoid any of the dark bruises or scrapes that he had patched up earlier. 

Marc’s breath hitched and he let out a forced soft moan. The moan turned into a whimper as Jean-Paul moved his hands down and slowly started to stroke over Marc’s thighs. 

“Good… Just like that.” He draped an arm around Marc’s neck and pulled him in, kissing him softly as he slowly tasted him. 

Hands ran up his thighs and teased around his cock slowly. 

Marc squirmed and arched his hips, clinging to Jean-Paul tightly as he groaned into the kiss. Marc would not beg. He was a man that would rather suffer than beg. Jean-Paul had no interest in watching Marc suffer, but he did want to see if perhaps he could push Marc in a different direction. 

He gripped his dick and gave it a gentle squeeze as his thumb rubbed over the slit and head slowly. 

Marc whimpered and arched into him, nuzzling into Jean-Paul’s neck as he gasped and thrust his hips. 

“That’s it. I liked watching you suck me off. Did you even notice how much your dick ached? Sucking me must have really turned you on. I could see your hips moving in need as you swallowed me. Look how hard you are, right now. How can you be this hard and not notice?” He squeezed softly and gave a tug. 

Marc groaned and his hips twitched. “I’m used to it…” He gasped. “I don’t need anything.” 

“I think you’re full of it.” Jean-Paul stroked him roughly, feeling his dick swell and drip his pre-cum heavily before he squeezed and released him. “Maybe you think you don’t need anything but you want this. It’s okay to want pleasure, Marc.” He kissed him gently. “To want a little tenderness now and then.” 

Marc’s breathing grew heavier and his eyes fluttered as he groaned and ground his hips into him, desperately seeking out touch again. “Jean-Paul…” He whispered and flushed as the name escaped his lips. 

“Tell me you want to feel good.” He slid his hands over Marc’s chest again, taking great pleasure in mapping out each curve and muscle he found. His hands moved to Marc’s back and slowly traced his spine down till he was firmly gripping his ass in both hands. 

Marc squirmed in his lap and started to pant. “I want…” He bit his lower lip and groaned as his teeth dug into his swollen lip. “Ah… I want to feel…” 

Jean-Paul captured his lips in a kiss again, chasing away the pain as he tenderly sucked on the lower lip. “You want to feel good.” 

He teased fingers over Marc’s cock again, memorizing the way he felt in his hand. He was certain he would dream of this later. Far better than his usual nightmares. 

“Yes…” Marc moaned and tilted his head back, closing his eyes as he breathed deeply. His hips rocked and he let his whole body start to move as he leaned into the touch. “I want to feel you… I want to feel good…” 

Jean-Paul blushed as he watched Marc give in and squirm on his lap. It was like watching him slowly open up and let his guard down. Any cocky show or feelings of desperate separation from the world melted away and here he was, Marc Spector, laid bare before him. 

Jean-Paul instantly rolled and pushed Marc down on the cot, leaving a train of kisses down his chest to his stomach before circling his thighs slowly. “Beautiful… Say it again… Tell me what you want…” 

Marc was gasping now, the sounds coming from him barely contained as he squirmed back and gasped around, unsure where to put his hands as he sought something to cling to. 

“I want you… I want to feel you!” Marc groaned and grasped at Jean-Paul’s shoulders tightly, fingers digging in as lips brushed over his balls and a tongue slid across his dick. 

Jean-Paul kissed the head passionately, grinning to himself at the notion of what a true ‘French Kiss’ was as he worked his tongue around the swollen gland. He lapped at the sensitive slit for a moment then wrapped his lips over the head and sucked gently until it was red and tender, ready to blow. 

Marc arched his hips and rubbed his dick across Jean-Paul’s lips eagerly, gasping as he reached for pleasure and attention. “Yes… I want it… I want to feel it…” 

How long could Marc hold out as he clung to this feeling? Jean-Paul suspected Marc could push himself on the brink for far longer than was healthy. Reaching for but never letting himself have that satisfying release. 

He would not let Marc ride this one out. As skilled as he was at dragging men along past their breaking point, Jean-Paul decided he was going to end it here and now. 

He licked his lips then quickly took all of Marc in, swallowing and clenching his throat around him tightly as he slid his tongue down the sensitive underside fully. 

Marc took a sharp intake of breath and clenched his hands as if he was prepared to fight it. Jean-Paul groaned, letting the vibrations slide through him as he started to bob his head, pulling off to the tip before sliding back down easily. 

Another intake of breath and he could feel Marc starting to squirm, his leg muscles tightening as his hips stuttered and thrust. “Nnh…Ahh!” 

This was it. He sank down on him fully, sucking him to the deepest part of his throat. A hand flew to his hair and ran through it, unsure if it was trying to cling to him and hold him there or if he wanted to pull him off and deny it all. 

It didn’t matter as he felt Marc’s dick twitch and finally give up the fight as he came, shooting a thick load down Jean-Paul’s throat steadily. 

The strangled sound Marc made only encouraged him to suck harder, drawing it out in victory as he drank him down. Only when Marc was gasping and his hips started to thrash did Jean-Paul release him, letting his dick slide out of his mouth with a satisfied smile. He hovered there a moment, watching as Marc’s dick lay against his stomach, slowly softening. 

A soft kiss to remember him by and Jean-Paul slid up to collapse next to Marc, draping over him gently and feeling the heavy rise and fall of Marc’s chest. 

He peaked up at Marc’s face, desperately hoping to find him still present and not trying to drift off again to the place he always went after battles so he wouldn’t have to feel anything. 

Marc looked back at him, their eyes meeting for a moment. “Fuck.” Marc ran his hands through his own hair slowly as he lay back and processed. 

“Was that your first blow job?” Jean-Paul suspected that Marc was not a virgin, but he wondered how much Marc had ever let himself truly experience vs. what he had simply coasted through. 

Marc lay back for a moment then shook his head. “I’ve had a few before. But none…None like that.” 

“It’s the mustache.” Jean-Paul grinned and lay his head against Marc’s shoulder. “You should always look for the man with the mustache. He knows how to have a good time.” 

Marc groaned and sat up a moment. He grabbed the ice pack from before and lay back down, laying the ice pack on his face. “It doesn’t hurt as much, but I can feel it more. I’m aware of it.” 

Jean-Paul sighed and reached up to gently move the ice pack to the swollen part of Marc’s face. “It will fade again. Endorphins can only take you so far.”

He envied Marc’s ability to block out all the pain and sensation. Yet… The price he paid for it… 

He thought back to before, watching Marc gaze up at the night sky as he settled into whatever numbness he told himself he needed to live. 

Here Marc was again, naked in the night and fighting against being real and being here. He was a heartbreaker, but not for the reasons that everyone thought of. 

Marc’s breathing evened out and he looked to Jean-Paul fully, eyes open and asking. “I think I liked this. I could get used to this ritual.” 

Jean-Paul rested his head against Marc and slowly wrapped an arm around his naked waist, holding him close. “Keep your pre-battle ritual. Wander as far as you need to. As long as I survive, I’ll be here after to help bring you back.” 

Marc nodded, though he was already starting to drift again, his breathing slowing as sleep started to claim him at last. “Thank you…” 

“I’ll bring you back…” Jean-Paul promised him. “I’ll take care of you. No matter how broken we are, we’ll come back together…” 

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Blessed by Ammit - Part 5

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London?

Layla has been rescued! Back in the loving arms of Marc and Steven, she must deal with the fallout of Harrow's manipulations. Can she return to a normal life? Can they deal with the new Layla?

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, breast sucking, enlarged breasts/nipples, enlarged clit, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, denial, masturbation, exhibitionism, fucked silly, vaginal fingering, oral, cum licking, public, thigh humping, vaginal penetration, non protected sex, creampie, cockwarming, cumshot, anal (female receiving), rough sex, biting, VERY minor blood mention.

Discussions of past trauma, dissociation, talk about child abuse, talk about loss of control.

(Psychological manipulation due to cult worship going on. So big TW for cult stuff. Deprogramming and psychological trauma.)

Word count: 18,873 - Hot damn

Pairings: Layla x Marc, Layla x Steven, Layla x Jake

Part 1 Here // Part 2 Here // Part 3 Here // Part 4 Here

----

She could hear Marc talking in the bathroom. Somehow he had gotten her back to his own hotel room and she sat there now staring down at the floor. 

He had told her that Harrow had been defeated and Ammit was no longer a threat. She had stared at him, trying and failing to comprehend what that meant to her. She wondered what would become of the village full of his followers. If she should go back herself and become their guiding light. 

She felt a sense of loss, worried that they would feel she had abandoned them. 

When she tried to explain things to Marc, he had looked at her in horror. They argued and he eventually stepped away into the bathroom. He had been in there for some time arguing and talking with someone. 

She stood up and knocked on the door. There was a pause then the door opened and Marc looked at her with furrowed brows. 

She swallowed and looked down. “I think… I might be messed up.” She crossed her arms over her chest and looked away. “I don’t know if it was the power from Ammit or… Maybe he just got to me. I don’t know if I can go back to things as they were before. You abandoned me first, Marc. Then… Well… I don’t know what was going on. And the things that I did with Harrow…” 

She shivered and felt a twinge of need well up in her as she thought about Harrow. Every time she thought of him now, her body heated up and cried out in need for his touch. His pleasure. 

Marc nodded then stepped out of the bathroom and took her hand, leading her back to the main room. They sat together on the edge of the bed and he looked like he was struggling to tell her something. Anything. At last he looked away. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I left you the first time. I couldn’t come get you sooner. I should have tried harder. Searched for you harder. I could have done more. If I had known what he was doing to you… Making you do…” 

“I did it all on my own.” She looked away. “He never forced me to do anything.” 

Marc jerked and his face changed, opening up and becoming softer all at once. “That’s just the thing, love! He didn’t need to! He was a terrible manipulative bastard! You got manipulated into following him. Then he exploited your fears and needs. He found you when you were vulnerable and he used you!” 

She blinked at him and a memory came back. “Steven.” She smiled sadly. “I’m sorry. I must be a huge let down for you.” 

“No!” He clasped her hands in his and clutched them tightly. “Not at all! I should be apologizing to you! I got you into this. I mean, you tried to help me and I let you down. Now because of me you went through so much…” 

Layla shook her head and pulled him into a hug. “Oh Steven… It’s been such a mess. I think it’s going to be a long time before I’m me again. I keep hearing his voice in my head…” 

He patted her back and settled into her warmly. “I know… Khonshu manipulated Marc too. It’s surprisingly easy to fall for kind words and promises when you need them. Especially if he’s… Manipulating your body.” 

She felt him pull back and look at her, his cheeks red. “He did this to you with his staff?” 

She nodded and tried not to think about the moment when she had given in and ridden his staff, how good it had felt as she rubbed herself on the cool metal. 

“Maybe we could talk to one of the other gods and get you back to normal… Might undo some of what Harrow did…” He frowned, thinking hard. 

Layla felt a twinge of fear rush through her. Undo Harrow’s work… Take away her gifts. Her divine gifts. She shifted and felt the fabric of her robe slide over her nipples, sending a rush through her chest. “Maybe…” She hesitated. “It isn’t that bad, is it? Do you hate it? Does Marc hate it that much?” 

“We hate what happened to you.” Steven defended quickly. “That he did this to you against your wishes!” 

“But do you hate it?” She stood up and slowly unbuttoned the robe, letting it fall to the floor. “Do you hate my body?” 

Steven stared at her with wide eyes. He had not seen her new form in person yet. He had not watched her finger herself desperately as Marc tried to get her dressed and out of Harrow’s hotel room. 

Fearful that Harrow’s followers might return and try to get revenge, Marc had practically carried her out and down the street while she kicked and struggled against him until the full realization of being rescued set in and she had broken down. 

Steven looked away, embarrassed and flushed. “I could never hate your body. But… Are you happy with it? It isn’t yours, really. It’s so…different.” 

She looked down at her body and smiled as she slid her hands over her breasts slowly. “A gift…” She blinked, shaking her head to chase away the whispers Harrow had placed in her ears. “I’m not sure I can remember what it was like before. I think I would miss how it feels. It is… Amazing.” 

“Marc doesn’t hate it. He’s just… Worried. About you. About what you might do.” Steven glanced up at her. “He thinks that you might leave.” 

“He thinks I’ll go back to the town.” She frowned and sat back down on the bed. “It crossed my mind.” She admitted. “I’m still thinking about it.” 

Steven looked bothered. “Did you like it there? Did they kill people?” 

Layla flopped back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling. “I saw him kill people. Felt him judging them.” She slid a hand down to the mark on her abdomen. “I don’t agree with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. It goes against everything I believe in. I just… I was someone there. I was important to them. They needed me. Looked to me to be their… Their Divine Gift.” 

“They blinded you to their cruel ways with forced kindness and love.” Steven looked at her sadly. “Gave you what you needed…What you thought you wanted.” 

His eyebrows furrowed and Marc was looking at her now, taking in her prone body and changes for the first time fully. “It’s my fault.” He sighed. “I abandoned you. Made you feel unloved… Left you vulnerable to them…” 

She looked up at him, unable to deny it. “You did leave me.” She felt angry for half a second then sat up and looked at him fully. “You could have told me anything. Anything at all about what was going on with you. What you were going through or doing or had been through!” 

Marc flinched back and looked away. “I’m sorry.” He repeated, the phrase locked on his lips. 

She softened and pulled him close, wrapping her arms around him. “Marc… I missed you. I missed you so much. Please… Talk to me. Promise you’ll tell me everything you can. Take me home and maybe you and I can get better. You can get Khonshu out of your mind and I can get Harrow out of mine…” 

Marc nodded. “Tell me everything. I want to know what he did.” 

She looked up at him. “Only if you tell me everything.” She challenged him. “I want to know about Steven. I want to know why you… Fell in with Khonshu.” She hesitated. “I want to know what Harrow saw that made him tell me the things he did about you.” 

Marc was silent for a moment then he nodded. “I can do that. With Steven’s help… I think I can do that.” 

Layla nodded. “I think I can tell you too. If you promise not to think poorly of me…” 

Steven was back, hugging her close again. “I could never think poorly of you, love.” He blushed again. “Do you think that you could…wear clothes? This is really embarrassing but… I don’t know how to not look at you and I don’t want to…You know.. Make you uncomfortable?” 

She smirked. Steven was not what she was used to. Even before all this, she had always had a flirtatious streak to her that had long ago earned her that special smile from Marc. 

“You can look at me if you want to look at me.” She smiled at him and stood up in front of him. “I think any last bit of modesty has been wiped from me by Harrow.” 

He gulped hard and his eyes didn’t know where to settle, running over her body then looking away. “Did he force you to be naked?” 

“He never forced me to do anything.” She realized that she would have to wear clothes now. No one would stare at her openly with such devotion or love or lust again. Her body was now considered shameful. “I want you to look at me… Steven, they worshiped my body. Every day I was taken out to the people and they showed their devotion to Ammit, Harrow, and myself. I… I fed them and they gave me everything.” 

Steven looked up at her for a moment, his eyes glancing over her chest and down to her groin before moving back up to her face. The look in his eyes was different from that of the people in the town. There was something quiet and soft there, but it was still filled with desire and love. 

It made her ache inside for him. 

“I… I don’t mind looking… If it’s alright.” His hands fidgeted on the bed sheets for a moment then his face scrunched up and Marc was back. 

“Damn it, Steven.” Marc huffed. “We aren’t going to do this.” He muttered to himself. “Sorry, Layla… He uh… I think he’s inexperienced.” 

“Inexperienced? You mean a virgin?” She shivered. Marc was far from inexperienced. When they first met, the things he used to do to her could make her melt. She had been the inexperienced one and he had blown her away. The sudden thought that it was her turn to make someone puddy in her hands sent her heart pounding. 

Marc gave her a look. “Look, take it easy on him. I don’t want you to rile him up. I don’t know if he can handle it.” 

Layla smiled and felt her groin tighten as she imagined that sweet open face looking at her with those wide trusting eyes while she-

“Layla?” Marc was standing before her. 

She blinked and looked down to find her fingers slowly working into her folds, her lubricant dripping down her thighs heavily. 

“Nh.” She shook her head and looked away. “Sorry. I… I can’t control it sometimes.” She pulled her fingers up and stared at the fluid there. “Harrow used to have me…” She looked at him, suddenly nervous to talk about it. “I put on shows for the town. He liked to watch me.” 

Marc took her hand and looked at the slickness there. “I don’t know how to help…” He looked pained at this admission. “I’m afraid to treat you like Harrow did. If I let you keep doing what you did there, is that just keeping you in whatever state he had you in? Do I keep you from doing it and cause you pain?” 

“You could fuck me…” She lifted her hand and slowly licked over her fingers. “Satisfy me. Don’t leave me wanting…” 

Marc’s face pulled as he struggled. “Layla…” It took every piece of his control to turn away. “I can’t. I won’t use you like that. I won’t take advantage of this! It’s my fault this happened and I refuse to encourage it!” 

Layla wrapped her arms around herself and stared at his back. Just like before. Her husband was rejecting her all over again. Pulling away. 

“Excuse me.” It was her turn to go to the bathroom and close the door. She stared at herself in the mirror. She wasn’t wearing the fancy jewelry Harrow had decorated her in and hardly looked pristine. Some divine gift she was. She wanted to take a very cold shower, but it would feel strange to her. Harrow did everything with her. He washed her and tended to every part of her body. 

She angrily turned on the water and stepped in before even checking the temperature. It didn’t matter. Too hot or too cold. Her body was alight in need and it was all she could do not to run out into the streets and beg for someone to watch as she pleasured herself. 

She looked down at the mark on her abdomen and wondered if Ammit’s power was still there. Could she still be a vessel? If she found Ammit herself would she take over Harrow’s position as promised? The idea thrilled her. Leading his people without him. Becoming their sole object of affection… 

Her fingers slipped down and stroked over her clit slowly. She could do it… His followers were still out there. She could find one so easily. Judge them… Beg them to love her. 

She panted as the water splashed down on her back, running over her chest and stomach. Touching every part of her like they used to. She could close her eyes and imagine the fingers that reached for her. Palms that cupped her breasts and squeezed as lips sucked… 

Layla cried out and sank to her knees as the first orgasm in over a day ripped through her. 

The door banged open and Marc stood there, wide eyed and ready to fight. She looked up at him, trembling on her knees, fingers deep inside herself. 

She would show him. She would show him who she was now. 

She smiled and stood up, leaning back against the shower wall as she slid her fingers in and out of herself, her thumb working over her swollen clit. “Here to save me?” She lifted her free hand to her breast and stroked her nipple slowly. “Come save me, Marc…” 

He stood there, watching as her hips started to roll, riding her hand needily. He seemed frozen in place, unable to move forward or retreat. She could see the conflict on his face. The guilt and desire mixing. 

“I dreamed about you, Marc… How my husband would see my new body…” She spread her folds and let her fluids mix with the water that rushed down her legs. “How much he would want me… I want my husband. It’s been too long. I want him to explore me. I want him to touch my body and explore me.” 

Marc let out a deep groan and suddenly moved forward. Clothes and all, he was suddenly in the shower with her, pushing her up against the cold tile as he captured her lips in a frantic kiss. 

His hands cupped her jaw as he kissed, fingers working up into her hair before sliding down the back of her neck and down her chest. 

She gasped as his lips moved down to the crook of her neck and he sucked, leaving angry red marks across her as he moved to places he had long ago found. Places Harrow had never explored or exploited. 

She arched as his hands grabbed her breasts, feeling how full and large they had become. No longer just handfuls, he squeezed and felt their weight. His tongue worked up her neck and she felt teeth graze over her jugular lightly before sliding down to her collarbone where he bit gently, leaving marks. 

Layla cried out, hands digging into his soaking shirt. “Yes… Yes!” She felt his hips press to hers, the wet jeans rubbing against her throbbing clit roughly. “Oh god…Marc!” 

She started to pant as she ground her hips into his, feeling the friction as he continued his assault on her neck, kissing under her ear now, knowing the secret sensitive places he had found so long ago. 

It built fast and she didn’t fight it as she orgasmed, clutching at him desperately as her body shuddered and continued to rub against him in need. 

He pulled back, earning a pitiful whimper from her. Standing under the shower fully, he stared at her. The conflict on his face back. She could see the turmoil as he wondered. Was he wondering if she had been fucked by Harrow? Did he think she let the crowds take her? Was he worried about whether she would hate him if he pounded into her like they did? 

He pulled away and she understood. He didn’t want to take pleasure in her. If he could please her, then perhaps he could make it up to her. But if he found pleasure in it, how could he enjoy the pain that Harrow had caused her? 

She grew angry as he stepped out of the tub and started to walk out, dripping wet on the floor. 

Turning off the shower she angrily followed him. “No!” She stamped a foot to get his attention. “Don’t you dare! I know what you’re doing and how dare you assume things about me! How dare you refuse to face this! Do you want to know what he did?” 

He stared at her, his face a picture of pain and despair. 

“He paraded me through town daily. He let them watch as I masterbated. I sat before large crowds and brought myself off day after day! I let people suck my tits and then at night he tied me up and I let people cover me in their cum!” She swallowed hard. “They didn’t fuck me! It was torture, Marc. Giving me this body made to feel everything and he left me begging and pleading as no one gave me what I needed and wanted!” 

She held out her arms so he could get a good look at her. “Then, only once he had broken me, did he fuck me.” She smiled bitterly. “He fucked me silly, Marc. He shoved me down and took me till I couldn’t feel anything but him. He showed off his power and I took it. I let him pound into me until I was delirious! Even now I can close my eyes and still see him. Still feel him. Do you think that makes me happy?” 

He clenched his fists, his sadness replaced by anger. 

She slid her hands across her stomach and traced the scales. “He made me believe everything he told me. Every whispered lie and truth. And then I sucked him off. I let him fuck my throat and fill me there. It was violent and rough and painful and I loved it. I had to love it. What else did I know? What else did I have?” She was aware that tears were running down her face now but she didn’t feel sad. 

Marc looked away, shaking in rage. His jaw was locked and he couldn’t speak. 

Layla’s fingers went up to the fresh marks across her neck and collarbone. “He would never have left marks. To marr my body was to desecrate his gift. He had to keep me pure and perfect. He filled me with cum to show the world that he owned me but he never treated me with real love. Real kindness. His lust for me was only about his own lust for his power.” 

Marc made a sound that almost sounded like he was fighting off tears. His eyes were bright as he looked up at her. “I can’t… I can’t use you like that. I could never…” 

She wiped the tears from her eyes. “I won’t beg you. Begging you will feel too much like what he made me do to him. I begged him every day and he tormented me in his fake kindness and selfish love. But I will ask you… Maybe not now… But I couldn’t stand it if you never touched me again. If I never felt you inside me… Don’t let him be what I dream of when I wake up humping the bed. I need him out of me.” 

He looked at her and nodded. “I have some things… I need to tell you. I’m terrified that you’ll leave. That it will drive you back to him. To that town. But if that’s what you do… Maybe I deserve it. Maybe you need to go where you can feel loved and happy.” 

She looked at him and understood that he wasn’t kidding when he said he was terrified. She had never seen him so pained. “Tell me. Tell me everything.” 

He held up her robe and she pulled it on, moving to take a seat on the bed. He paced in front of her then pulled up a chair and sat down on the edge. His hands worried in front of him as he struggled. Now and then he glanced to the side and whispered something to Steven and shook his head. “No no… I’ll do it. I have to.” 

She waited and at last he started in. He told her about why he left home. Why he didn’t speak to his mother or father. He told her about his days in the army until he was kicked out for being crazy. He told her about Steven and why he needed and protected Steven. 

She listened as he tried to talk about his condition, his eyes blinking in and out of focus as he struggled against pain and triggers that threatened to bring Steven out when he needed to stay in control. When it was too much for him, he paused to collect himself then moved on to his days in the Mercenary group. His voice was cold and detached and she understood why. 

She remembered her days laying in her room waiting for Harrow to come collect her to start her day and how much she had wished to be somewhere else. How much she wished she could leave her body and float above it all as he washed and touched her. She understood his pain now and it hurt her to think that before all this, she had ignored it and not been able to see when he wasn’t there with her but his body was. 

He talked about some of his missions. Some of the things he did that he wasn’t proud of. The money he made. The wars he fought. The people he fought side by side with. She had heard some of the names before and always wondered but never pushed. Why hadn’t she pushed? 

He paused and Steven stepped in for a moment, full of apologies as he explained that Marc needed a minute to collect himself. 

“It’s difficult. I didn’t know all this either, you know?” Steven shrugged and wrung his hands nervously. “He’s good at keeping it all together. Bad at letting it out.” 

“Is he okay?” She reached out and took his hands, curiously sliding her fingers over his knuckles. The same knuckles she knew so well, yet his response was so foreign as he took her hands back and clasped them tightly as if they meant the world to him. 

“He will be.” Steven smiled. “It’s just going to take time.” He looked at her softly. “Are you okay?” 

She thought about it. “I will be. If you’re there to help, Steven… Marc too. Maybe we can help one another.” 

Steven flushed and stared at her, his eyes filled with her and she understood that no one could ever look at her like he could. Not the most manic follower or worshiper or even Harrow. No one could make her feel like he could with a look alone. 

She leaned in, wondering if his kiss would taste the same. 

“Wait.” He stopped her and pulled back. “What Marc has to tell you next… You have to listen. Really listen. It’s going to hurt, but please give him a chance. He… He’s suffered so much.” 

Layla couldn’t imagine what he had to say that could hurt her. She waited until Marc was back. Marc pulled away from her and got up again to pace. At last he talked about his last mission as a mercenary. About the job to rob a tomb and how it went wrong. About the way his commander had murdered everyone and then tried to kill him for getting in the way. 

Layla stared at him. His string of apologies came in murmurs of self destruction. Of wishing for death and pain and how rotten of a human he was. He buried his face in his hands, clenching at the seams as if he could rip himself to shreds if he could just figure out how. 

Steven was right. It hurt. Her own emotions flashed through her. Rage that he had been a part of it. Horror at the fact that he had known this when he met her. Humiliation that he had known this whole time and comforted her when she cried over her lost father. 

Then she remembered Steven’s request. To listen. Really listen. 

She looked up at Marc, angry tears in her eyes. 

He stood back against the far wall, his form small and shrunken away from the room as he collapsed in on himself. The small words that fell from him with each breath. Words begging her for forgiveness while also begging her to hate him and leave him. Words wishing for death and more. 

She got up and went to him, reaching out to touch him. He glanced up and flinched back so hard he smacked his head into the wall. 

Layla closed her eyes. He was expecting violence. He thought she would strike him. She tried again, gently reaching out and wrapping her arms around him. She pulled him close and just stood with him. 

He had not dried himself off after the shower incident and now he felt cold and still damp. She slid her arms up under his wet shirt and gently stroked his back, warming him. He probably didn’t even realize that he was cold. 

“Marc…” She tried but words failed. She could not so easily forgive him for his part, for his lies, for his omissions and for not telling her. Her head rested on his shoulder and she sighed. But she could understand his fears. His constant self punishment. He had suffered and she did not need to give him reason to keep suffering. Not if she wanted him to start trusting her and opening up. 

“Get out of these wet clothes.” She brushed his hair back and moved to sit back down. “It’s been a long few days. I want to just sleep. I want you to wrap your arms around me and hold me and I want to wake up with you buried in my hair and me buried in your chest like old times.” 

He stripped to his boxers and climbed into the bed, pulling her close and settling in behind her, spooning her till she felt his body heat radiating through her. 

For the first time in so long, she fell into a peaceful sleep. 

–

She woke up in pain. 

Her breasts were tight and swollen, throbbing each time she moved. 

Layla had not been milked in days. She had released a little over the past few days, but that was nothing compared to the amounts she was used to being pulled from her to feed the town. 

She winced as she rolled over, gently lifting Marc’s arm from her as she sat up. 

What was she supposed to do about this? It wasn’t like she had been induced by hormones or having a child. It wasn’t likely to just dry up if she neglected it long enough. Harrow had intended for her to provide for him for the rest of her life. 

She was going to have to buy a pump. How embarrassing. She groaned as she sat there, looking down at her tight chest. Would a pump be able to hold enough? What was she supposed to do with all that milk? 

She could possibly sell it to some maternity place that needed mother’s milk… But was it even safe to drink? What if Harrow had somehow poisoned her milk? What if that was what kept his followers so passive and devoted to him? 

Layla slipped off her robe and tossed it aside. She tenderly touched a breast and hissed at the pressure that she felt there. She was outright aching. 

“Layla?” A soft voice spoke up from behind her. “You alright?” 

Steven sat up, rubbing his tired eyes. He glanced around as if checking to see where he was. 

“Yeah. Just… Another lovely gift from Harrow. My… My milk. There’s a lot of it. It hurts.” She gently put pressure on one of her breasts and let out a pained groan as milk dripped slowly from her nipple. Somehow the slow release hurt more. 

“Oh? Is there anything I can do to help, love? A warm compress or maybe some tea?” Steven moved on the bed behind her and she felt him crawl up next to her. He froze when he saw her exposed breasts. His face going bright red. “Oh. Oh my.”

She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “It really hurts. I don’t know what to do.” 

Steven stayed frozen in his spot but she could see his mind jump starting. “I could do some research. Things that might help. In ancient times milk was prized and often considered to have healing properties.” 

“Thank you, Steven.” She blushed. “I’m not so sure my milk has such properties. Harrow caused it with his stupid staff and with Ammit’s power. How do I know it isn’t a way to mind control or cause problems?” 

Steven frowned. “Well, we could test it. Send off a sample to a lab or something. I’m not sure what all they would find though if it’s filled with ancient god properties.” 

“Yeah. Probably not much.” She winced and tenderly massaged her fingers over her chest. 

“We could do a much more practical test…” Steven shifted to sit next to her and looked up at her fully. “If it has mind control… Well… I am a little unique.” 

She raised an eyebrow at his logic. “Steven… You share a body.” 

“With two minds!” He grinned. “So if I act weird then Marc takes over until it wears off and then we’ll know!” 

“I’m not sure I like this theory.” She crossed her arms over her chest. 

“I trust you.” Steven smiled. “Do you trust me?” 

She looked at him. Of course she trusted him. She trusted him with everything. “I’ve only known you a few days, Steven.” She winced and looked away as the instinct to push him away came out. 

He looked down, his hands coming up to his chest only to remember he wasn’t wearing a shirt and he simply clasped them there over his heart. “Yeah… I suppose you’re right.” 

That hurt her immensely as she looked at his crestfallen face. “What do you plan to do?” 

He gave her a slightly hopeful look. “Well for starters, I thought I might try to ease your pain. I happen to know a few things from some books and… then maybe we’ll see if it helps?” 

She sighed and nodded. “Alright. But… Just so you know…” She flushed and crossed her legs, pulling the bed sheets into her lap. “Harrow really used my milk as a weapon against me. So… If I say or do anything weird… Try not to take it too personally?” 

Steven nodded seriously and turned his attention down to her chest. He rubbed his hands together as if trying to make sure they were warm. After a moment he reached out and paused, just inches from touching her. He looked up as if asking for permission one final time. 

“Go ahead, Steven.” She looked at him openly. 

His fingers started high, slowly tracing just under her collarbone. He pressed and started to rub small circles just above her breasts, working into the pectoral muscles there that had been suddenly charged with lifting her enlarged and heavy breasts all these weeks. 

The groan that escaped her was one of massive relief as tension and strain was slowly worked out of her chest. “Oh… Oh wow…” 

Steven’s face was one of utter focus and concentration as he worked his strong palms into the muscles there. His fingers slipped to her sides and just under her arms where they dug in and continued to press and release the muscles there. 

It was all Layla could do not to bite her lower lip right off as she fought off the moans that worked deep in her throat. Each exhale was a massive release of stress that had been weighing on her without her knowledge. 

She remembered Harrow washing her or rubbing lotion into her skin and his touch was a teasing feather designed to make her dizzy and thrown off balance. He not once focused on how the changes affected her body. 

Steven’s eyes found hers and his hands moved down till they cupped the underside of her breasts. He worked his thumbs inward to run up her sternum while his palms kneaded inward to press over her breasts and slide upwards. 

“NNh!” Layla arched her chest and her eyes rolled back as she leaned into his touch. His thumbs worked inwards, slowly circling her breasts and pulling down as he massaged. She felt her chest start to ache and build. “Oh… Oh god…” 

He circled her areolas gently with his fingers, kneading and stroking her. Her milk started to slowly bead up on her nipples as he kneaded. 

The sounds that left her mouth were incomprehensible as he slowly worked his calloused thumbs over her nipples then squeezed gently and pulled. He released then pulled again till he was maneuvering her breasts in a steady milking motion. 

Her vision blurred as she felt something inside give and her milk at last sprayed from her heavily, splashing out with each tug and squeeze. 

She collapsed forward into him, gasping as the pain eased all at once. 

Steven looked at her in alarm then sighed as he saw the utter relief on her face. “You alright?” He asked just to be sure. 

“Unh…” She groaned and lay her hands over his, guiding them back to her chest. “I don’t know where you learned this or why you know all of this… But if you stop now I’m going to go crazy.” 

He went back to massaging her chest, making sure to work all the muscles working to hold things up then pressing and working into the swollen tissue, letting her milk flow out easily. 

She closed her eyes and leaned back on her hands, letting him have full access to her chest. She was so focused on his work that she didn’t notice him shifting closer until she felt the unmistakable sensation of lips wrapping around a nipple and sucking timidly.

It was like a jolt of electricity as she felt the pull and steady flow of milk leave her perfectly. Her hands were instantly in his hair, pulling him closer and holding him in place. She looked down and whimpered as she watched him drink from her breast. 

His eyes were closed and he drank so carefully. There was no desperation there. No begging for a touch of Ammit or blessings. “Steven…” She stroked his hair and ran her fingers through his curls. “Oh… Steven wait… Wait!” 

He pulled back and looked up at her with a blush. “I’m so sorry. I got carried away. I should have asked first!” 

“No. Steven. That’s not it.” She cupped his face and looked at him deeply. “Are…Are you feeling okay? You don’t feel weird do you? Or feel like… Praising Ammit or Harrow or me?” 

Steven paused, licking the milk from his lips. He thought about it for a moment. “Well… I do kind of feel like singing your praise but I think I always feel like that.” 

She looked at him anxiously. 

Steven shrugged. “Harrow is still a git and Ammit is still a creepy crocodile lady. Would you like my opinions on Khonshu?” 

“Oh Steven…” She grabbed him and pulled him back down to her other breast. “Please… It feels so good when you do it.” 

He nuzzled her breast then pulled a nipple into his mouth, this time more confident as he worked his tongue over it and suckled. A hand fell to her waist to steady himself and the other hand slowly continued to knead and massage her other breast. 

Her hands ran up and down his bare back, trembling as she struggled to figure out what to do. She felt Steven shift to get a better position and she felt his cock rub against her through his boxers. He was at full attention, his dick straining against the fabric. 

She slowly lay back and pulled him on top. Carefully she slid a thigh between his legs and moved it. Steven’s startled groan was music to her ears. 

To his credit, he didn’t stop drinking from her as he shifted on her, slowly wrapping his legs around her thigh and hesitantly he moved his hips. She felt his bulge press against her and his breathing started to deepen. 

“Steven…” She groaned and slowly shifted till her clit was pressing against him. “Yes… Don’t stop…” 

He grunted and his hips thrust, moving his body till they were grinding against one another. He released her nipple and let out a breathy moan that ended in her name as he nuzzled into her chest. Her fingers dug into his shoulders then slid down his back as she started to hump against him. Each movement pressing over her clit and leaving her slickness behind against him. 

He moved up and locked his lips onto hers, kissing desperately. She could taste her own milk on his lips and tongue as he explored her. His chest slid over hers and he worked his hands across her body, aching to pull her as close as possible with each arch of his hips. 

Her hands slipped down to his ass and she gripped each cheek, squeezing as she urged him to move harder. She didn’t have to ask him twice. He wrapped his legs around her thigh fully and moved his whole body, sliding against her. 

Trembling he reached down and pushed past the bed sheets between them and slid his fingers over her clit. He groaned as he felt her swollen and throbbing bundle of nerves there. He dipped his fingers into her folds, collecting her lubricant before moving back to her clit and stroking over her, gently rolling it between his fingers and giving a sharp tug now and then as he moved. 

A squeal left her as he jerked his fingers and she bucked up, pressing her thigh against his hardness roughly. His own groan made her grin as she recaptured his lips, sucking his lower lip roughly till he whimpered. Letting go she tilted her head back and he took instruction well, dipping back down to gently suck and kiss down her neck. 

“Oh, Steven… Yes… Harder.” She groaned and felt him spread her folds to get a better hold as he started to work her clit over roughly. “Yes… Yes!” She cried out as she sank her nails into whatever flesh she could grip. 

He groaned and she felt wetness spread across her thigh as his body tensed and his hips twitched. 

“Yes!” She clenched her thighs around him, trapping him in place as she reached her own climax. He tweaked his fingers around her clit sharply and she shrieked as pleasure and pain mixed, dragging her into a quick second orgasm that was prolonged as he teased his fingers across the tip of her clit slowly. 

His fingers stilled and he slowly pulled them away. He lay against her, panting hard. “Oh wow.” He looked down at her with a grin. “Layla…” He was practically glowing, sweat beaded across his forehead and a flush over his cheeks and nose. “Was that okay?” 

She groaned and slid her hands up across herself. She was covered in her own milk that had gushed from her nonstop after his amazing administrations. She felt his cum over her hip and thigh as it spread from his boxers. Her bed sheets were soaked from her own juices. 

“That was perfect.” She laughed. “Oh god it was perfect…” She hugged him tightly and kissed him lovingly. Not once did she imagine it was the people of the town or Harrow manipulating her body. It was so uniquely Steven that she could only smile as she buried herself in him. 

She felt Steven relax into her, his hands stroking her hips gently. He was quiet for a long time, simply basking in the afterglow. 

At last he squirmed and sat up. “I need to get cleaned up. This is a deeply unpleasant sensation.” 

She laughed. “Yeah. Sex is a bit messy, isn’t it?” 

He blushed and untangled himself from the bed. “I don’t want to pry but… I think Marc is still worried. He’s been out since we went to bed.” 

“Out?” She blinked for a moment. “Oh. Like… Not here?” She was going to have to get used to this. She was actually a little relieved to know that Marc hadn’t been around to see what they had done. She couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. “Do you think he minds? What we did?” 

Steven stood up and thought about it a moment. “No. I think he’s getting used to it. He was a little jealous at first… But I think he’s happy that you and I get along. It makes things work a little easier, really.” 

She nodded. “He doesn’t need to be worried. I understand what he told me. Why he did what he did. Maybe it will take a while before I can talk about it with him… But I don’t hold it against him. I still love him.” She looked down and drew her knees to her chest. “When are we going back to London?” 

“I think Marc wanted to leave tonight. He wanted to be sure Harrow was secure and his followers weren’t going to try anything to release him… Or to get you.” Steven shrugged. “Is that okay with you? Do you think you’ll be okay going out in public and flying?” 

Layla nodded with a forced smile. The truth was no. She didn’t know how she was going to handle it, but she had no choice. She wanted to go home. She wanted to get back to London and start putting this all behind her. 

Steven nodded and went to the bathroom. She heard the shower start up after a moment and Layla flopped back on the bed. She would have to wear clothes. Real clothes. Be seen by people. Do normal things. 

When the shower finished, she watched Steven get dressed. At last she got up. “Steven, could you go get us some food and get me something to wear? I’m afraid I don’t have any real clothes. Marc knows my….well he used to know my size. I don’t know my size anymore…” She looked down at her body and felt a wave of sadness at all the clothes she had back in her home that would no longer fit her. “Use your best guess. Something easy.” 

Steven moved to kiss her on the cheek and lingered a moment, worried about leaving but happy to be tasked with a mission. At last he left with a small wave. 

She got in the shower, this time letting the warm water wash her clean. Her own hands scrubbed at the mess on her and she closed her eyes as she wiped down her groin. 

She must have been in the shower longer than she thought because she heard the door open and the sounds of things being set down. Stepping out, she saw the stiff and guarded stance of Marc as he laid out some food on the table. 

He glanced back at her as she walked out, drying off with a towel. It didn’t even occur to her that she was still naked until she sat down to eat. 

Marc raised an eyebrow then sat down across from her and slid a plate towards her. 

“You remembered.” She looked down at her favorite Egyptian foods. 

“Not that hard to remember.” Marc shrugged. “Especially here.” He made up his own plate of food and sat back in his chair, watching her. 

Layla ate happily. The familiar food a far cry from the light and often flavorless meals Harrow kept her on. Probably an easy way to help break her spirit. 

She reached for some flatbread when she caught Marc’s eye. “Are you going to sit there staring at me the whole time?” 

He shrugged but didn’t look away. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. Then… After how I found you… I didn’t think I’d ever see the real you ever again.” 

She gave him a look. “You’re one to talk. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again after you left. Then when I found what I thought was you back in London faking an accent and amnesia…” 

Marc nodded and stared down at his plate of untouched food. “Fair. I didn’t mean to… No, that’s not true. I did mean to. I just didn’t think I’d come out on the other side and get to see the trouble I caused.” 

Layla frowned at him and got up. She pulled her chair around the table then sat down, next to him. She dipped some bread in hummus and held it up to him. “Eat, Marc.” 

He blinked at the bread then slowly took it and at last took a bite. She watched him until he started to eat his own food then she dug back into her own plate. “Steven doesn’t yet know about your bad habits, but I do.” She sipped her tea and sighed. “I love you. I love you so much. You don’t know how much it meant to me that it was you that found me. You that carried me here. I could have never left on my own. He had me so far in my head that I think I would have followed him to Ammit herself and accepted my fate.” 

Marc sipped his own coffee and continued to stare at her. She was used to his gaze. She used to catch him staring at her all the time. Like he couldn’t believe that she was really there with him by her own choice. 

Finishing her food, she glanced down and sighed. “I suppose I should get dressed. This is going to absolutely be depressing.” 

Marc flushed and smiled. “I mean… Once we get home if you feel more comfortable like this I’m not going to complain.” 

She stuck her tongue out at him and got up. “Steven might find it distracting.” 

“Steven is being very adamant right now that he doesn’t mind if you don’t mind.” Marc smirked and sat back in his chair. “A little birdie tells me that you two had…relations.” 

“You don’t mind, do you?” She picked up one of the shopping bags and started to dig through it. “I had some pent up feelings and… Honestly it helped. Seeing how different it was with him compared to how I’ve been treated… It did wonders.” 

Marc shook his head. “I’m happy for you two. I really am. If it helps that much I’d have you two do it ten times a day just to see you be you again.” 

She pulled out a few items and checked their cut and size before she settled on a simple T-shirt and jeans. She skipped the underwear, worried that it would be too harsh against her. “I could easily go ten times a day. You have no idea what my libido is like right now.” 

She pulled on the shirt and was instantly devastated. It was a size too small and her breasts strained against the thin fabric. 

There was a clatter as Marc’s elbow slipped off the table. The look on his face was strained as he stared at her. “I think naked was somehow better. You walk around like that and I’m going to be the one distracted.” 

She smirked at that, feeling a bit of self confidence return. She held up the jeans, noting that they were her usual size. She wiggled her hips as she stepped into them and pulled them up. They squeezed past her hips and settled in easy enough until the seam slipped up between her folds and rubbed against her clit. 

“Ahh..Ah…” She took a step and moaned. “Oh no.” Sitting down sent a hot flash through her system and she nearly orgasmed right then and there. “Oh god. I can’t do this… Marc…” She looked up at him with tears in her eyes. 

“Hey. It’s okay. I’ll be with you the whole time.” He lay a hand over her elbow gently. “Maybe try the skirt? There’s a dress in there too.” 

“You got me a cocktail dress.” She laughed. “I’m not wearing that.” 

Marc shrugged and looked away. “You should have seen what Steven tried to pick out for you. I think he has some hidden fetish that you two should explore later.” 

She groaned and slipped out of the jeans and into a skirt that thankfully flowed freely and came down to her knees. Pulling a jacket over the shirt gave her a little room to cover herself up and she started to feel a little better. 

Layla sighed and sat back down. A thought occurred to her. “Steven said you wanted to make sure Harrow was dealt with. Did you….?” 

Marc stiffened. “No. He’s alive. Steven worked something out and we aren’t working for Khonshu anymore either. If he wants Harrow dead he’ll have to find someone else.” 

“What did you do with him?” She glanced at the window as if expecting to find him there. 

“Steven and I agreed that you don’t need to know where he is…” Marc wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Just know that he’s in a secure location and won’t be coming after either of us again.” 

There was obviously some fear that she might decide to go find him herself. She didn’t blame them. It was probably a wise choice on their part. She didn’t know what she would do if she found him again. 

“I want to leave. I don’t want to risk running into any of his people here. Secure or not, they could get him out if they really tried. I’m sure of it.” Layla stood up. “Is there a plane we need to wait for?” 

Marc frowned then shook his head. “I called in a favor. I’m not putting you on a crowded plane with strangers. Not like this. Not till you’re ready.” 

She relaxed a little. It wasn’t the first time that she was thankful for Marc’s sordid past, but it was the first time she was thankful that he wasn’t afraid to make use of it. 

“What about the pilot? You aren’t going to owe someone something that you’ll regret later, right?” She hated the idea that Marc was out of one contract and always putting himself into another. 

Marc laughed. “He’s a good man. Don’t worry. The only thing he wants in return is a night out on the town.” He paused. “You aren’t the only one I ran out on. I guess I have a few bad habits.” 

She smiled and slid her fingers through his hair, adjusting his curls back into place. “I trust you. If you say he’s good, then I trust you.” 

–

Leaving the hotel was terrifying. She looked at anyone around her with mistrust and deep suspicion. Were they looking at her because they knew her or was it because of her look? Part of her wanted them to look. She wanted to walk down the street and demand that they follow her and love her. She wanted to get lost and drunk on their desires to appease her.  

She clung to Marc’s arm tightly. She was afraid that if she let go she would simply be swept away and wander off. 

He held her arm in his, guiding her as they got into a taxi and rode to the airfield. Her anxiety spiked as she struggled with the sensation of tight and compressive clothes squeezing her. It somehow made things worse as she felt more exposed each time her shirt pulled across her chest. 

She sat in the seat next to him and felt her need rise and fall as she struggled to contain herself. Her fingers dug into her shirt and clutched at the fabric and she stared into the distance, trembling as she tried not to think of the last car ride she took with Harrow. Harrow who distracted her with pleasure. Who each time she thought with her own mind would drag her back to his with a casual touch and reminder of her place. 

Next to her, Marc took her hand and squeezed hard, bringing her back. “Hey. It’s alright.” 

She looked at him and nodded then leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Just hard not to think about it…” 

“Yeah… I understand more than you know.” He nuzzled her hair and held her close. 

Once they got to the airfield, they were met by a man with a heavy french accent. He introduced himself as Jean-Paul ‘but you can call me Frenchie’ and kissed her cheek, complimenting her as a fine reason for Marc to have fallen off the face of the earth then spent the rest of the prep time harassing Marc about old times and bad choices. 

Watching him ease into a familiar interaction was surprising. It was almost like watching him become someone else all over again as he laughed and clapped the man on the back, joking and talking openly. 

She wondered just how much this man truly did know Marc. More than a few times he would pause and grow quiet as he stared off into the distance then shake his head and power through. Perhaps Steven was just as curious as she was. 

It was a relatively small plane and she sat in the back, strapped in tightly, while Marc sat co-pilot and took instructions from the pilot naturally. 

Partway into the trip, Marc jerked and looked around. He glanced back at Layla and smiled. She smiled brightly, starting to recognize the facial differences as Steven waved at her. 

He hesitantly got up and slid to the back, quickly strapping himself in next to her. “Heya.” He grinned. “Marc was spacing out and said I could come check on you.” 

She reached out and took his hand. “Not the first time I’ve been on a plane like this. I’ve actually been in smaller ones. This is nothing compared to what I used to take to get out to the desert.” 

Steven nodded. “I don’t remember being on any planes, but I must have at some point to end up in England. Not like I swam across the Atlantic.” 

“Are you two still doing alright? I’ve never seen Marc be so friendly with someone before.” She glanced up at the pilot. 

“Yeah. He tried to shut me out a few times. I don’t think he wants me to introduce myself yet.” Steven shrugged. “Probably still embarrassed by the little Englishman he made up in his head.” 

“You are nothing to be embarrassed by.” Layla looked at him lovingly. “He’s probably just not used to sharing you with people.” 

Steven nodded but still looked contemplative. “How are you doing? You look… Well you look amazing but I’m willing to bet you would have been happier if I’d picked something a little less restrictive.” 

“Want the truth?” She looked at him fully. 

“All about honesty over here.” He looked at her with wide eyes. 

“I’m sitting in a puddle. The vibrations of the engine are getting to me. My breasts are being squeezed in this shirt. I should have opted into wearing the damn underwear because all I can think about is how easy it would be to sit in your lap right now and ride your cock till we land.” She huffed and sat back. 

Steven stared at her. “That…That certainly is honesty.” 

She sighed in frustration and looked forward. “I’d even let the pilot watch. He could join in for all I cared. I… I’d let him cum on me if he wanted to. It’s what I would have done in the town.” 

“Frenchie isn’t into that.” Marc’s voice startled her. “If he was going to cum on someone it’d be me and honestly, I’d rather he didn’t. He needs to fly the plane and he isn’t well known for being able to multitask.” 

“Did I scare off Steven?” She gave him a miserable look. 

Marc laughed. “No. He’s having a time out. I think he was this close to taking you up on the offer. He’s still very much in awe of you and you could offer him a dirt sandwich and he’d accept it gladly.” 

“Sorry.” She flushed. “I’ll be alright. Really I will. I put up with worse. I don’t always need to have sex. I was certainly denied it enough that I know how to not jump people.” She looked out the small window. 

“He tortured you, didn’t he?” Marc leaned forward in his seat. “You don’t think so… But he did. I learned all about torture in the Marines. More so when I went rogue. He offers you things you want. Things you think you need. Maybe even gives you a taste so you know how much you need and want them… Then he withholds it from you. Keeps it away till you think you’ll go crazy if you don’t get it. You’ll do anything for it.” 

“It didn’t hurt.” She defended quickly. 

“Doesn’t have to.” He glanced over at her. “Torture isn’t always about pain. Sometimes it’s about just making you trust them. Making you feel loved and important. They build you up with so much that you feel high as a fucking kite and so privileged to be with them. Then they rip it out from under you. Make you feel like you deserve it. Make you feel like you were the one that did wrong so that you’ll do anything in the world just to get back to that high again.” 

She looked at him quietly. “Have you ever been tortured?” 

His jaw set into a hard line and he stared forward. He at last nodded his head just enough for her to see it. 

“I’m sorry.” She looked down. “He did those things. I was so lost in the feeling of what it was like to be loved. I did so many things just because I thought they would please him. If I pleased him enough then maybe he’d fuck me. I just wanted him to touch me. To be happy with me. Every time I let him down he kept me from getting anything.” 

Marc nodded again and reached out to take her hand. “I’m not here to tell you the right way to get over this. Clearly I’m not the person you should be asking on how to deal with it. My great plan was apparently to become two people.” 

“I think the boat has sailed on that one.” She smiled. “Just stuck with me. Me and the me with Harrow whispering in my head to satisfy everyone around me.” 

“I don’t want you to satisfy me.” Marc looked back at the floor. “I’m afraid that it’s all you want because of him. That you think your worth is in just making me happy. I… I can’t let you do that. You’re worth more than that. You’re worth finding your own happiness!” 

She unbuckled her seatbelt and moved across the open space then planted herself in his lap fully, thighs straddling him. 

He looked up at her in surprise as she lifted her skirt and let it fall around them. Shifting her hips she rocked against him slightly and bit her lower lip. “Marc Spector…” She looked down at him fully. “Don’t you dare deny me. If I try to jump you in a busy street, maybe give me a little reminder that it isn’t the time or place. If I try to suck you off in the privacy of our own home I want you to thank me and give me your dick. He controlled everything. Everything, Marc. He fed me. He washed me. He let me use the damn bathroom. He controlled when I felt pleasure and he controlled my orgasms. If I bend over a counter and give you my ass, what do I want to hear you say?” 

He swallowed hard. “Oh baby, spread those legs?” 

She thrust her hips again and whimpered. “Fuck…” She shivered and gripped his shoulders tightly. 

“What if…” Marc glanced away. 

She smiled and kissed his forehead. “Unless you don’t want it. If you aren’t in the mood. If you think I’m being manipulative to try to get my way… Remind me that I love you and don’t give it to me.” She thought for a moment. “That goes for Steven too. I know he won’t tell me no if I push him too hard. If you catch me doing that, I want you to step in. I’m relying on you, Marc. Keep me honest.” 

He nodded and relaxed under her. “Layla…” He glanced to the front. 

“Don’t mind him. He’s flying the plane.” She reached down and cupped him through his pants. “You’ve been so naughty… Teasing me with this. Even Steven has been so careful… I just want to feel this cock inside me and I’m aching out here.” 

Her fingers slowly unzipped his pants and fumbled with the opening for a moment then he groaned as his dick slipped out, hard and ready. 

She adjusted her skirt then lifted her hips. “I’ve been waiting so long for this…” She rubbed her opening over the head slowly, coating him in her juices. 

His breath hitched as she slid over him. “Oh fuck…” He whispered and clutched at her hips tightly. 

She shifted and sank down onto him quickly, taking him in fully. She sat still, her eyes fluttering shut as she squeezed around him, feeling his size and shape. He wasn’t Harrow. He didn’t push into her deepest parts and strain against her insides, but he stretched her in just the right way. 

“I could sit like this all day.” She gasped and squeezed him again, her insides clenching and gripping him tightly. He gasped and dug his fingers into her roughly. “Not moving. Not doing anything. I could just hold you inside me…” 

“Oh fuck…Layla…” Marc’s hips twitched and he pulled her close, burying his face into her chest. “I think I could cum just from this. You’re so tight…” 

She smirked and lifted her shirt, letting him nuzzle against her bare chest. “It’s been so long. You clearly forgot how good I feel.” She waited until he was sucking on a nipple before she rocked forward. 

It was all he could take. His hands lifted her hips and pulled her up then pulled her back down onto him roughly. He jerked his hips to meet her as he started to kiss over her chest. 

She let out a soundless gasp as he kissed over her breasts, sucking and teasing as he licked the sensitive underside then circled her areola with his tongue. He smirked up at her as he searched for her most sensitive parts and teased every part of her but her nipples. 

A sharp bite was punctuated by a deep thrust as he rocked her hips again. It was everything she could do not to start crying out and moaning wantonly. 

He kissed the red bite marks on her breast almost apologetically then moved his hands to lift them, pushing them together so he could easily lick across them both. 

She flushed and watched him as she rocked on him. She didn’t think watching someone enjoy her breasts so much would be this much of a turn on, but each time his parted lips found flesh she groaned. 

She reached a hand down and slowly traced her fingers where they joined, stroking over his cock each time she lifted her hips. “Cum in me, Marc… I want you to cum in me… Fill me. Make me yours again…” 

He groaned and took a nipple in, sucking hard as he drank down her milk eagerly. 

His hips bucked and she felt his warmth spread inside, sliding out around him. She clenched down and leaned forward, keeping him inside as she climaxed hard. “Nnh… Think we can stay like this the rest of the flight?” She smirked at him. 

“Layla…” He groaned as she brought her fingers up to slowly lick their juices off them. 

She tensed on him and breathed hard as she rocked her hips slowly, drawing it out. She wanted to make it last. She wanted him to be hers. Nothing was going to take this cock away from her ever again. 

The plane jolted and he wrapped his arms around her tightly to keep her from falling off. His face buried in her chest, he looked up at her and gave her that smile that meant he was having mischievous thoughts. 

“Hey, Frenchie.” He called out. “You watching where you’re going or you jacking off up there?” 

“Always jacking off, Marc.” Frenchie called back. “Dreaming of that beautiful ass.” 

Layla gave Marc a look. 

He shrugged. “It’s just how he talks.” 

“Ma’am.” He called back again. “If you could lift your skirt a little more, I would love to see that delightful cock. It’s been so long. I want to make sure it’s just how I remember it.” 

Layla’s eyes widened and she looked back. The pilot gave her a thumbs up. 

She looked back at Marc then smirked. “How he remembers it, hm?” 

Marc shrugged. “What happens in the services stays in the services.” 

She pulled off him and sank down between his legs. “How’s this, Jean-Paul?” She leaned in and gave Marc’s slick dick a soft kiss. 

“Fuck!” Marc groaned and gripped the edges of his seat tightly as she leaned in and licked around the base, cleaning him off slowly before she licked up the underside and took him in, easily deep throating him and sucking. 

“Mon Dieu.” The plane jolted and went into a mild dive before it leveled out again. “Madam, I salute you.” 

Marc looked down at her. “Uh… Maybe…Maybe now isn’t the best time… Oh god that pained me to say it.” 

She kissed the tip of his dick slowly then stood up and went back to her seat, pulling her shirt back down. She could feel his cum inside her and on her thighs and she had never felt so good. 

Marc groaned and carefully tucked himself back into his pants, leaning back in his seat with a look of utter concentration. 

“Don’t you dare throw Steven out here to deal with this.” She whispered. “You know he’ll just beg me to finish it.” 

Marc nodded. “Yup. Yup. He’s… He’s already begging.”

“Could I pay you to finish the job?” Frenchie called out. “I would really love to see him finish.” 

Layla laughed and glanced at Marc. He was still clutching at his seat tightly. “I kind of like him like this.” She lowered her voice and whispered to Marc. “You’re so fucking hot like this. Reminds me of our honeymoon.” 

Marc groaned and crossed his legs. Their honeymoon had been a hormone induced thrill ride of questionable legality and far too much sex. “I’d rather not get the police involved this time.” Marc looked out the window. 

They spent the rest of the plane ride laughing as Frenchie told stories of embarrassing exploits from their missions and Marc shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 

When they landed and disembarked, he gave Layla a warm hug and a promise to take her anywhere, no payment needed as thanks for the show. 

Marc rolled his eyes and promised not to disappear on anyone again. 

“Are you going to tell him about Steven?” She sat close to him in the taxi. “Steven wants to know your life too.” 

Marc shrugged. “Yeah. I’ll probably have to someday. Just hope Steven doesn’t fall for his flirtations.” 

She smiled and slid her hand over his lap, pleased to feel him still partially stiff. “Marc… I want you to pound me when we get home. I want you to throw me back on the bed and stir me up. I would walk through the city with your cum sliding out of me just to show everyone that I’m yours.” She nibbled on his earlobe gently and moaned softly, just for him. 

Marc let out a strangled grunt and lay a hand over hers, desperately trying to hold it still and stop her from working her fingers around his length and massaging. “Layla… I don’t know if I’m going to make it to the flat at this rate.” 

She grinned and slowly slid her skirt up, letting him get a good look at her slick thighs. “Even if you don’t, I’m sure I can convince you to go again.” 

She spread her legs and slowly slipped the skirt up higher, letting Marc get a good look at her. She slowly spread her folds with her fingers and sat back. “Like looking at me? I love when you look at me.” She smiled playfully. She could feel herself starting to get worked up as she slipped out of her jacket and arched her chest. Her nipples were hard and pressing against the thin fabric fully, straining as beads of milk started to dampen it. 

Layla smiled and licked her lips. “I want your dick so much right now. Let me show you my love.” She smirked and got out of the cab when it pulled up to their flat. She looked around at all the people walking by and lay a hand over her lower abdomen, her eyes glazing over. 

Marc paid the driver and scrambled around the cab and fumbled with his keys. He had the door open before he realized she wasn’t following. 

“I could give them so much pleasure…” She whispered. “Just a few words. I think I still have it in me… Ammit’s power… Just a few words and I’d have them all on their knees…They could love me… I could love them.” 

Marc scooped her up and carried her into the building. She struggled, her mind going blank as she pulled her skirt off and reached down to stroke over the mark of scales. “Please… Let me test it. I just…I just want to see! I want to see them! Let me give them love!” 

He burst into their flat and marched her to the bed, tossing her back and pinning her arms above her head with one hand. He used his other hand to cover her mouth as he looked down at her, panting heavily as he prevented her from calling out the words Harrow had taught her. 

“Layla!” He looked down into her eyes sternly. “Hey. It’s okay. Look at me. You’re here with me. Okay? You don’t need to prove anything to anyone else. Just you and me.” 

She blinked and looked around at her familiar home. A place filled with her things. Her things with traces of Marc tossed about. 

She made a sound under his hand then slowly relaxed back. He pulled his hand away and looked at her. “You okay?” 

She squirmed under him and found him still pinning her down heavily. “Sorry. I… I lost myself for a moment there.” 

Marc slowly released her hands and sat back, still straddling her. He looked down at the dark scales on her stomach. “They were glowing. I thought I was about to lose you back there.” He delicately touched them with a finger. 

“It’s still in me.” She stayed in place, hands over her head. “Oh god, I think I really could have unleashed it again. What if Harrow felt it? What if it somehow gave him power again? What if it brought about Ammit?” 

Marc’s face darkened and he looked down. “I should have ended it. I should have listened to Khonshu. I should have-”

“Marc!” She sat up and cupped his face. “No. You did the right thing. We’ll figure this out. Figure out how to get this off me. We’ll figure it out.” 

Marc nodded and wrapped his arms around her. “You got too worked up. We need to figure out how not to work you up so much.” 

She nodded. “I was thinking too much about how much I wanted you. How good it felt to make you want me.” She looked at him and flushed. “You know… If I’m not kept wanting I won’t get so worked up….” 

“Oh yeah?” Marc gave her a hesitant smile. “Are you telling me that you need more sex so you don’t try to destroy the world?” 

“Not exactly in those words…” 

“Tell me what you want, Layla. Tell me how to satisfy you.” He slid his hands down her damp shirt and cupped her breasts gently. 

Layla squirmed and chewed her lower lip, looking at him. His dark eyes and hair. His tight and coiled muscles. She knew the power he held. How much restraint he carried with him in everything he did. 

She leaned back. “You bit me on the plane.” 

Marc flushed. “Yeah, sorry. I got carried away…” 

She kissed him softly. “Harrow never marked me. He humiliated me and filled me, but he made my body ache to be touched. I want you to forget about restraint. I want you to tear me up. Leave marks. I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t see straight.” 

Marc nuzzled her neck and breathed in her scent deeply. “Layla… I could never hurt you.” 

“Then don’t.” She slid her hands down his back and dug her nails in. “If it hurts or it gets too much, I’ll tell you to stop. If you get too in your head, then you stop.” 

He groaned as her nails raked down his back and he looked up at her. She could tell he was struggling until she reached down and grabbed his dick through his pants, squeezing hard. “Fuck me, Marc. I want to scream your name till I’m hoarse.” 

He shoved her back on the bed and stood over her, stripping and tossing his clothes aside. He gripped the front of her shirt and there was a loud ripping sound as he tore through it, her breasts spilling free. 

“Oh!” She gasped as he slipped the shirt up over her arms then wrapped it around her wrists, tying them together. Moving up to straddle her midsection he pushed her breasts together and slid his cock between them. 

“Lick.” He groaned. “You were so eager to kiss it on the plane. Finish the job.” He grunted as he squeezed her tits together around his dick and forced out a stream of milk to slick them up. 

Layal squirmed and groaned as she watched his fat dick move against her. She slid her tongue out and slowly licked across the head each time it pushed up between her breasts. 

He rutted against her roughly, squeezing and pulling at her nipples harshly, making her cry out each time he rocked forward to nudge against her mouth. 

Her heartbeat was pounding as she looked up at his face, his dark eyes full of lust for her and love as even in his desperate need he was careful and watching her every response. 

He moaned and pushed his dick up into her mouth as it twitched and started to spurt out thick ropes of cum. 

She wrapped her lips around him eagerly and sucked, drinking him down. He moved down, lifting her hips up and pulling her to the edge of the bed so he could stand between her legs. He lifted and pressed into her in one fluid stroke. 

She cried out and squirmed in his grip, hooking her legs around him to help hold herself in place. His hips jerked hard, each downward thrust jolting her whole body and making her breasts bounce on her chest as he watched her move. “Yes… Layla… Yes!” 

She lay back, giving into him fully and letting him pound into her. His hands stroked down her thighs, leaving bruises where his fingers dug into her. He bent over her and she saw his arm muscles suddenly flex as he lifted her up off the bed and pulled her forward until she was riding him while he stood there gripping her tight. 

She cried out and groaned at his show of strength. “Oh god Marc!” She hooked her tied arms over his head and around his neck and started to thrust her hips, gasping each time she pulled up and sank down on him. He kissed down her neck and she felt another sharp bite as he kissed over her shoulder. “Nnh!” 

Each bite was punctuated with a soft kiss and suck that drove her wild. When she didn’t think she could take anymore he suddenly tossed her back on the bed roughly, letting her bounce back into place. She looked up at him with wide eyes as he stood over her, grunting and glistening in sweat. “Oh god… Fuck me…” She spread her legs and arched her chest up, shaking her shoulders to make her breasts sway for him. 

He was on her in a flash, hands gripping and pawing at her chest as he sucked and licked over her breasts. Teeth found a nipple and delicately pulled, stretching her tit up slowly. She squealed as he released and let her bounce back. He smiled and recaptured the offended nipple, sucking and licking it over till milk sprayed and he drank it down. 

Layla struggled to pull her hands free. She wanted to grip him. To clutch at him and dig in. 

He grabbed her wrists and slammed them back above her head, holding her firmly in place. His kisses moved lower and marks bloomed down her stomach and circled around to her inner thighs as he sucked hard, leaving bright angry red outlines of his teeth. 

She whimpered as he spread her legs forcefully and moved up. Terror and excitement rushed through her as she felt his teeth graze over her clit. 

“Oh please… Please… Marc…” Her voice wavered and she didn’t know what she was begging for. She wanted to remind him to be gentle at her most tender area but the idea of him losing himself in her pushed through as she wanted to urge him on. 

Her thighs trembled as he settled between them, hands holding them open forcefully. He let her clit slide over his closed teeth slowly so she could feel every ridge. Each gasp from her only encouraged him as he wrapped his lips around her nub and suddenly sucked hard, stretching her out and pulling her into his mouth to work his tongue across the over sensitive tip. 

She clenched her thighs and screamed as he forced them back open, spreading her and only sucking harder. Orgasm rushed over her and her entrance clenched, squirting her fluids out heavily. 

Marc moved lower, sliding his tongue into her, chasing the source of her fluids as he pushed in deeper and licked over every part of her he could reach. 

“Marc! Marc! AH!” He moved back up, swirling his tongue around her clit before he took it in again, sucking roughly and humming around her. 

Sounds left her that she didn’t know she could make as she thrashed her hips, trying to buck him off as over stimulation started to set in. “NNH! Marc please! Ah! I can’t… I can’t! Oh god!” She squirted again, her lubricant drenching him as he ate her out. 

He groaned and gave her clit a light nip, making her squeal and thrash again. No matter how she moved he latched on, riding her as his tongue dug into her. When she rode out another orgasm he suddenly pulled up. She looked up at him with delirious eyes and the world spun as he lifted her and rolled her, laying back on the bed and pulling her on top. He shifted her up and let her slide down onto his raging hard dick. 

She cried out, arching back as he gripped her tits and stroked her nipples, pulling and milking her roughly. 

She watched him with lidded eyes, lips parted as she panted and rocked her hips, riding him as he bucked under her roughly. “Hnnn Maaaarc….” She groaned and felt her insides cling to him. “Oh Marc… I love you… I love you!” She shuddered. 

“Layla…” He pulled her down and captured her lips in a kiss, sucking them and sliding his tongue into her, letting her taste herself on him. 

He groaned into the kiss as he came at last, his dick pulsing hard inside her as she clenched down and climaxed with him. 

She trembled and collapsed down on him, her body spent as she rested her head on his chest. 

He pulled her close and stroked her hair gently. “I love you.” He breathed out, his own breath shaky as he relaxed back into the bed. “I love you I love you I love you… I’m never letting you go again.” 

“Mnh.” She nuzzled his chest as he reached up and untied her wrists, tossing her torn shirt aside. “Don’t you dare move. I want to stay like this. I want to feel you inside me.” 

Marc nodded and pulled her close. “We’ll get cleaned up later. Just rest now…” 

She smiled up at him and closed her eyes, letting her body wind down. Her insides spasmed now and then, clenching around his dick as if checking to make sure it was still there. She was pretty sure that if she had any energy left that she would have cum just from feeling him inside her. 

Sleep claimed her and she had a dreamless sleep, deep and perfect. 

– 

She was vaguely aware of feeling the body under her shift and pull away at some point in the night. She looked up with blurry and tired eyes as she felt a warm cloth on her body, wiping her down and gently cleaning the sweat and cum off of her. She lazily spread her legs, letting the cloth clean down her thighs and so softly and gently wipe off her sex. 

She smiled and mumbled, “Thank you…” 

A moment later light fingers traced some of the nastier bite marks that had actually broken skin. There was the sound of something rummaging and she felt ointment being gently rubbed into the wounds. 

The tender fingers slid down to her abdomen and lingered over the mark of the scales, slowly tracing them. The bed shifted and she looked up to see him leaning over her, gently looking over a dark bruise on her shoulder. 

“When morning comes, you need to ice these. Keep the swelling down.” The accent was there, but something was off. It was forced. Like someone forcing out Marc’s thick Chicago accent that only really came to full surface when he was stressed. 

“Marc?” She tried to see through the dark room to look up at his face. 

He looked down at her, his face drawn up in concern. HIs eyebrows weren’t right. His eyes weren’t right. 

“Go back to sleep.” He kissed her forehead and stroked her hair softly. “I’ll take care of you. I will make this right.” 

Sleep won out and she nestled back into the bed, falling asleep. She had never felt so safe in her life. His words felt true. He was going to make this right. Whatever was wrong, it was all going to be right soon. 

When she woke up again, the sun was coming through the blinds and she was alone. 

Sitting up, she got up, wincing at all the reminders of the rough night before. A long shower eased her sore muscles. Toweling off she noticed a folded note on the side table next to antibiotic ointment. 

“Ice the bruises. Especially the one on your shoulder. Apply the ointment to the wounds. I will be back tomorrow.” 

It wasn’t signed. It didn’t look like Marc’s blocky handwriting and from what she had seen of Steven’s flowing and quick penmanship it didn’t look like his either. 

She did as she was told, taking care of the wounds and exploring the trail of hickies and bruises Marc had left on her. She was almost sad she couldn’t go out walking around naked. Let everyone see how much her husband loved her. 

She spent the day alone, trying to reacquaint herself with her life. She tried on old clothes, trying to find things that might still fit her and was pleased to find a few things, though they did stretch tightly across her chest. 

She cooked and cleaned, settling back into a boring and quiet routine. Something that calmed her mind after everything. It wasn’t so bad. 

Mid day when her chest started to ache, she stood over the sink and slowly massaged her chest, trying to replicate what Steven had done to help ease the pain. When she slowly pulled her nipples, spraying her milk into the sink she shuddered, feeling like some sort of animal just standing there and being milked. She hated it. She needed Steven or Marc there to lovingly suck from her. Anything to make it feel like she was more than just a thing to produce milk. 

She was just finishing up the milking process when her lower abdomen started to burn. 

“What…What’s happening?” She groaned and clutched at her stomach, doubling over as the heat grew hotter and spread. 

Gasping out she collapsed to her knees, whimpering pitifully. The heat started to fade after a few minutes and she looked down. 

The dark scales on her lower abdomen were glowing a dark purple and pulsing. The heat disappeared and the scales started to fade as she watched. “What?” She slid her fingers across the spot as the last of the mark disappeared. 

Confusion filled her. What did this mean? Was Ammit’s power gone? 

She ran to the balcony and looked down at the people below. Whispering the words of Ammit’s power she glanced around. No one so much as looked up. Nothing glowed and she didn’t feel any different. 

Going back inside she sat down heavily. She knew what this meant. Deep inside she knew that Harrow was gone. Ammit with him. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Tears of loss, relief, and anger. 

She was glad he was gone. She knew she had always been at risk of finding him and returning to the way he had changed her. With him gone and Ammit gone, no matter what his followers believed, there was no way they could carry it out. 

She could always fantasize about going back to the town and just living off of their lingering love, but the followers would dwindle over time. There was nothing there for her unless she declared herself a god and had proof. The proof was now gone.  

It was late at night when she heard the door open. She had not slept, her mind spiraling over what it all meant. Maybe he had found someone else and rejected her. What if Harrow was testing her. What if it was a trap? 

She looked up as a familiar shape came in with unfamiliar eyes. He stopped and looked at her, clearly not expecting to see her awake. 

She looked him over, noticing the flecks of blood across his collar and shirt. He reached up and took off his cap then slowly pulled off his gloves, setting them aside as he looked at her. 

“Harrow?” She swallowed hard. 

The man hesitated, trying to decide how to respond. At last he exhaled and all pretenses of accents left. “Si. He is dead.” His own accent was heavy and flowed over his tongue. 

“And Ammit?” She crossed her arms. 

“She was banished into him. Dead or further locked out of our plane. Whatever happens to gods when the host dies.” He shrugged. 

“Did you do this for me?” She looked him over, taking in the way he stood. He brought the body up to full height, his posture relaxed but straight. 

“And us.” He took off his coat and set it with the hat and gloves. She imagined he would need a dry cleaner later to get the blood out. “He didn’t just hurt you. I could not let that threat linger.” 

She relaxed and took a seat. “Did he suffer?” 

“Not really. He did experience some distress though. As brief as it was.” He made a finger gun sign with his hand and fired it a few times. 

“Thank you.” She looked up at him earnestly. “You have no idea how much this frees me.” 

He nodded then looked at her curiously for a moment. “You still look… Changed.” 

She looked down at her body. “Yeah. I didn’t figure that would just fade away. Still dripping milk too. I think this is all to stay.” 

“Do you hate it?” He undid his tie and rolled it up, setting it on a side table. She had to admit that he was a snappy dresser. “I have connections…” 

She raised an eyebrow at that. “No.” She laughed softly. “I guess I don’t hate it. Maybe sometimes… But changing my body isn’t going to change what he did to me. I might as well enjoy it.” She gave him a curious look. “Maybe someday if it gets to be too much…” 

He nodded and sat down, still watching her. His eyes took all of her in at once. He didn’t stare at her or look embarrassed. He simply watched her. 

It occurred to her that perhaps he was waiting for her to leave or do something. If he wanted to slip Marc of Steven back in without them noticing, he couldn’t just leave them there dressed like that covered in that blood spray with her standing there. 

“They don’t know you.” She got up and walked over to him, standing before him openly. “I don’t know you either, do I?” 

He frowned and shook his head. “I’d like to keep that as long as I can.” He sighed. “Please.” 

He was polite. She liked that. Perhaps even a little shy? Despite the front he put up of full control and casualty, she sensed he was nervous. 

“Staying hidden all the time… Yet you do this big thing for them. For me.” She leaned in. “May I thank you properly?” 

He never once looked away or pulled back. Perhaps shy wasn’t the right word. What then? 

“I’m not so sure that’s a good idea.” He reached up and lightly touched one of the bruises Marc had left. “You need to heal.” 

“I wasn’t offering a fuck.” She laughed. 

He tilted his head slightly as he regarded her then he leaned in and brushed his lips over hers. It was soft and feather light. When her lips parted in a soft breath he coaxed her to lean into him before he captured them in a gentle kiss that slowly pressed in deeper and renewed with vigor as he leaned back into her. When he pulled back she was left breathless, her lower lip trembling as she licked it lightly. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. It wasn’t Marc’s cheeky grin and Steven’s sweet and open smile. It was cocky and confident. 

She had pegged him wrong. He wasn’t shy or nervous at all. He was confident. His only anxiety was the fact that she was there keeping him from slipping away. This was a man that got what he went after. 

“Oh…” She breathed out and looked up into his dark eyes. “That’s it? Is that all you want?” 

He lifted a hand, curling a finger under her chin and lifting her face up to look at her fully. “We don’t know each other. I believe taking you in this state or you believing you owe me something is the definition of taking advantage of someone.” 

Her heart fluttered. “I’m Layla.” She blurted out. 

His smile turned into a soft laugh. “I know.” 

“I… I could know you!” She blushed. “Please let me know you…” 

He leaned in again, stopping just short of her lips. “I’m Jake.” 

“Jake…” She breathed out as he captured her lips again. Her head spun. Why was he so good at this? She had Marc and Steven. Why did the sudden appearance of someone else in her husband’s body make her heart flutter? 

He rested his forehead on hers and breathed deeply. “Are you just looking for someone else to love? Did he hurt you so much that you cannot imagine a life without spreading yourself across so many people?” 

She shuddered as he hit the hammer on the nail. “Maybe I am so in love with this body that any time I find someone else inside I need to know them too?” She slid her hands up over his chest slowly. “Is that so hard to imagine?” 

He chuckled and took a step back. “I know you already. I already know how I feel about you. I already know what I want to do to you. I already have imagined how I want to bend you over and take you in ways Marc or Steven haven’t thought of yet.” 

She flushed and felt her wetness start to drip down her thighs as she clung to his every word. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage then.” 

“Seems I do.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked at her. “I had all that planned out before the changes. Perhaps I didn’t think I’d ever get the opportunity. But things have changed…” 

She nodded. “Do…Do you like my changes?” She nervously looked down, suddenly afraid he would reject her. That he would disappear and she’d never meet him again. 

He reached down and adjusted himself and she couldn’t help but notice as his fingers lingered on his groin and squeezed the prominent bulge that was there before his hands returned to his hips. 

“Si.” He moved back to her and slowly slid a finger down her chest, tracing her sternum. “Your breasts are amazing… I imagine that Steven will suck on them all day if you let him. He has a bit of a complex.” His finger slid lower across her now blank abdomen and stopped just above her clit. “This is a gift. If you let him, Marc will eat you out like a starved man. I can hear him thinking about how much he wants to play with your slick clit all the time. He likes driving you wild.” 

She shivered. “And Jake?” She was breathing deeply. “Do you like it?” 

He dipped his finger past her folds, pressing up into her to collect her lubricant then pulled his hand away and slowly circled her. 

He spread her legs and his finger slowly started to circle her asshole, tracing the sensitive muscles there before dipping inside and testing how much give she had. 

“Oh…” She shivered and clenched around his finger before relaxing and feeling him slowly stretch her. 

He stepped up behind her and brushed her hair to the side before he started to kiss down the back of her neck. “I don’t have to worry about hurting you anymore, it seems…. Did he fuck you here?” 

Her breaths started to come in quick gasps as he slid a second finger in and slowly scissored them. “No… He… He put a plug in me. A tail.” She whimpered and arched her lower back out towards him, grinding her hips back. “It shocked me when I didn’t please him.” 

“What a waste of a beautiful ass.” He slid a hand over her hip and down across her backside slowly. His lips slid down her spine to between her shoulder blades and he kissed softly to her shoulder. “You can say no.” 

She shook her head, breathing hard as she leaned back into him. “I want it. Make me feel something I’ve never had before. Give me something that bastard couldn’t give me.” 

Jake smiled and stepped away. She stood in the center of the room trembling in anticipation as she heard him moving around her flat. She kept her eyes closed, still afraid that he would still disappear. Maybe it was a hallucination. 

Hands found her waist and slowly guided her. She followed him blindly, trusting in him fully. She was suddenly up against the end of her couch. Her eyes fluttered open as he pushed her till she bent over the armrest. He had stacked up some pillows with a soft blanket over them to cushion her as she leaned down. 

The reality of the position got to her and she glanced back, her ass up in the air and presenting to him. “Ah…” She squirmed and looked down to see her breasts hanging under her heavily. 

Looking back again she saw him behind her, naked and looking at her, taking her in. 

She wiggled her hips a little and spread her legs as much as she could without losing her balance. 

Something cold and wet slid down between her cheeks and she knew he had found the lubricant. Something she had thought she would never need again with how readily she dripped at just the thought of sexual contact. 

“Jake…” She whimpered as she felt him step up behind her. His hands slid over her hips, careful to avoid the dark bruises Marc had left behind where he had gripped her tightly. He leaned in and kissed the back of her neck again. 

“Be still,” he whispered and she felt his slicked up dick slide against her before it settled at her tight hole. “And breathe.” 

His hips pushed and her breath hitched as he popped through easily then slid in till his hips met hers. 

She gripped the pillows under her and let out a strangled groan, shaking her head as she forced herself to relax and breathe. Her muscles stretched and gripped him, squeezing and trying to push him back out before relaxing and slowly tightening around him again. 

“Breathe, Layla.” He kissed her neck and exhaled as he pulled out till she was just barely gripping the head. She gasped and he pushed back in, sliding in steadily and smoothly. 

She swayed forward as he pushed and she planted her hands on the couch for balance. She looked down and watched her breasts sway, her nipples fully hard and starting to drip milk as she started to get worked up. 

He pulled out again and she was pulled back with him. He grunted and gripped her hips harder then pulled as he pushed back into her, forcing her to meet him as he buried himself deeply into her. 

She threw her head back and groaned. “Oh… Oh god…” She gasped as he started to move in her faster, pulling and pushing her hips. Sensation was building in a way she had never felt before and she struggled to process it. 

A hand slid down and his nimble fingers found her clit and tweaked sharply as he pushed back into her. 

A moan was wrenched from her as she tightened down and squeezed on him hard. 

He breathed out in her ear and whispered, “Yes… Yes Hermosa… Just like that… Relax. Let me give you this.” 

She bucked her hips as he tweaked her clit again and gasped as he jerked his hips to meet her again. His pace was picking up and he was starting to move harder. She could feel his restraint starting to fade and she knew just how hard those hips could work if they wanted to. 

“Yes…” She gasped back at him. “Do it… Do it Jake… Fuck me.” 

It was all he needed. He hunched over her and his hips slammed in hard, filling her then pulling out again before she could process it. Lips brushed over her spine and each time she moved forward away from him he would tweak his fingers and punish her still sensitive clit. 

Her voice started to build, gasping with each exhale. “Nnh… Ah….” 

He pulled out of her fully and she trembled as she felt her hole start to shrink down again. His hips jerked and he slammed into her fully, stretching her nerves and muscles brutally. 

She screamed and came hard, her insides clamping down on him desperately. He caught her clit between his knuckles and rocked them sharply, rolling her clit back and forth. Her body tensed and she thrashed back on him, bucking her hips and making small squeaking sounds as her breath escaped her and she struggled to catch it again. 

He waited for her to catch her breath, making sure she was aware of her situation fully, then he started to move again, returning to his slow and confident strokes of thrusting into her and out fully. 

A gasping whine escaped her as she rocked on him, helpless in his pace and grip. 

“Good…” He nuzzled her ear. “Good, Layla… I knew you could do it. Still feel good?” 

She nodded. “Mmm-hmmm.” She shivered as his fingers slowly slipped back down to her clit. “Yes… So good.” 

She wiggled her ass and eagerly arched her hips to meet his fingers. “Yes. Please, Jake… Do it… Touch me like that. Touch my clit.” She groaned and stared down at herself, watching as her body moved. “Make me cum again…” 

He smiled and he trapped her clit in his knuckles again, rocking it and rolling it each time he bucked into her. 

She felt it building this time and she started to hump his hand and buck back on him desperately. She craved it. She wanted to get him off. She wanted him to cum inside her and fill her in a place Harrow had never cared about. 

He rocked his knuckles hard and she squealed as she came again, arching back into him and shaking her head as she fought through the pleasure. “NNhah!” She felt her head grow fuzzy and she reached back to trap his hand, keeping him at her clit as she humped against it roughly. “Jake! Jake!” She groaned his name to stay grounded and clenched on him hard. 

He was not expecting her sudden passion and he let out a deep moan that sent shivers through her spine. “Oh yes…. Say my name again… Layla… Say it again!” 

He pulled her clit sharply and she nearly collapsed into the couch as her body spasmed. “Jake! Fuck me Jake! Oh god! Fuck my ass!” 

He buried deep inside her and she felt his dick twitch and the odd sensation of his cum filling her. 

She buried her face into the couch cushion to muffle her screams as she climaxed again. It was almost too much. Her head felt clear and all she could hear was Jake’s soft moans and whispers of “Layla… Good girl… Just like that… Just let yourself go…Tell me what you want.” 

She felt him pull out of her and she groaned as her hole relaxed and tightened up, trapping his thick sperm inside. 

He kissed the back of her neck and nuzzled just under her ear gently. “Layla… You have to relax…” 

She realized she still had his hand trapped in her tight grip, her clit still squeezed tightly between his knuckles. She shook her head and squirmed, trembling as she squeezed and forced her own orgasm to drag out. 

He laughed softly and let her keep control as she rocked her hips against his hand, both overwhelmed and wanting to stop but too caught up on the sensation and desperately wanting to see how high it could take her. 

“Layla… You need to relax. You’re going to knock yourself out.” Still he didn’t try to force his hand away. He continued to kiss her neck, his free hand gently stroking her hips. 

She gasped. The whole situation was in her head now. Her ass in the air and being fucked by a man she had just met, but who knew her and loved her. Harrow was dead and could never control her again. Control was hers. Hers to do with as she pleased. 

“I’m in control now!” She gasped out and screamed into the couch cushion again as she peaked again. She squeezed his hand and he rocked his knuckles for her, grinding into her clit to force her pleasure higher. “Yes!” She shuddered and let out a raspy groan, her throat ragged from breathing so hard and screaming. 

 “Yes, Hermosa.” Jake snaked an arm around her and stroked over her chest gently. “You’re in control. Just you… Make this body work for you, Layla.” He groaned and she felt his dick stir behind her. 

She looked back at him, her face red and her eyes hard as she focused in on him. “Fuck me again! I want you inside me!” 

“Layla… Anything for you…” He pushed into her again and she threw her head back, moaning his name pitifully as she felt him start to move in her again. 

He tried to let up on her clit and she dug her nails into his hand, clutching it in place. “Don’t you dare. It’s mine…” She moaned and ground her hips back into him. “Mine…” 

He groaned and bucked into her hard. “Yes… Layla. You’re in control. It’s all yours.” He gasped and gripped a breast tightly as he braced himself. “I’m all yours. My dick is yours, my beautiful love.” 

Her legs were trembling and her arms ached as she pushed higher still. She didn’t know where her orgasms started and stopped. All she knew was that there was a sensation flashing through her body and she owned it. 

He wasn’t going to last long. The wild creature underneath him was writhing and bucking on him in ways he had never felt before. He knew his hand was bleeding where she had latched on but he wasn’t about to fight her. She needed this. This was her moment and if he tried to take this from her now he didn’t know what she would do. 

He pressed his free hand over her heart, checking her vitals to make sure she wasn’t going to push herself too far. 

He came in her again and she screamed as her body spasmed and threatened to collapse. 

Everything gave out at once as she sank down limply into the couch, her hips jerking and her whole body slumped forward. 

Jake slowly pulled out of her and rolled her over. 

He tried to pull his hand away and she jerked, her fingers trying to cling to him. “Nnh…” 

He smiled and leaned down to gently kiss her hand. “It’s okay. You can let go now.” 

Slowly her fingers loosened and he pulled his hand free. 

He definitely had nail marks in his hand and blood was slowly dripping down his fingers. That would be hard to explain to Marc later. 

She gazed up at him, slipping in and out of awareness as she floated in pleasure. Now and then she made small moaning sounds and her hips jerked as she struggled to comprehend the lost sensation. Her face was stained in tears and her eyes were red. 

“You overdid it.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Layla…Hermosa…” He looked her over and shook his head. 

He lifted her up and gently set her down on the bed. She moaned and squirmed slightly then lay back. It took her a moment as she struggled to form words. At last she looked up at him and was able to focus. “Jake. I’m sorry.” 

He sat next to her and gently brushed her hair out of her face. “No. This was yours. This was yours to reclaim. Your body, your will, your everything.” 

She tried to sit up then collapsed back again. “I’m glad he’s dead.” She sighed. “I’m glad Marc didn’t do it. I’m glad it was you.” 

Jake smiled and rolled her over, moving to slowly rub her back. “It’s what I’m here for. I do the hard things that need to be done to keep us all safe and in a good place.” 

“Is that why you let me…go a little crazy here?” She turned her head to look at him and felt her body slowly start to come down at last and relax as he stroked up and down her back. “You’re letting me work out my mental issues?” 

Jake sighed. “I’m Marc’s protector. Steven too if he needs it. I let you work out your issues because you needed it. Protecting you protects them.” 

“What if it gets bad again? What if I need this again?” She blushed and felt tears slip down her cheek again. “I don’t want Marc or Steven to see this. They won’t understand… They’ll think it’s their fault.” 

Jake nodded. “Hermosa… Getting control back from your abuser comes in all sorts of different ways. If you need to take control by fucking yourself silly, then I would rather you do it with someone there who cares about you to make sure you don’t hurt yourself.” He leaned in and kissed her on the cheek gently. “If you need it, I will be here. I will always be here for you.” 

“Did you have to do this? Marc said he was abused for a long time…” She remembered him mentioning that Khonshu was out of his life now. He was free too. What would Marc do in order to take back control? 

Jake nodded. “I did. Marc joined the military as his rebellion then joined the mercenaries. I did other things...” 

“Did it work?” She was afraid of the answer. 

Jake sighed and moved to lay down next to her, pulling her close and supporting her against himself. “It helped. Eventually I learned how to deal with it.” 

She curled up into him and smiled as he wrapped his arms around her. “Thank you, Jake.” 

“Do me three favors.” He brushed his hair back and settled in next to her. “Don’t mention me to them. Or that Harrow is gone. I’m sure they’ll find out he’s dead eventually but…” 

“I understand.” She smiled. “I won’t tell them anything. Just…Promise me that you’ll introduce yourself soon. They deserve to know about you and you deserve to know them.” 

He frowned then nodded. “I promise.” He gave her a serious look then. “This one is going to be the hard part. Take the next day off. Your body needs to recover. You are bruised, cut up, and you nearly knocked yourself out. Take the day off. If you try to get them to fuck you I will take over and dump you in the cold shower.” 

She gave him a worried look. “I think I can do that. I was rough on Marc and I think he’s going to need a day too. Steven… Maybe I can just give him a…” She caught his look and nodded. “Right. Your body might need some rest too.” 

Jake smirked. “Don’t test me. All you need to do with Steven is ask him to take care of you and he will be in heaven.” 

“What’s the third thing?” She gave him a look and braced for the worst. 

“Send my clothes to the cleaner before the others see them. Then hide them.” He frowned and grumbled. “Steven can’t handle my style and Marc is not to be trusted.” 

Layla laughed and relaxed back. “I can do that.” 

Maybe she still had issues to work out. Maybe Marc, Steven, and Jake did too. But she felt loved. Really loved. 

Things would get better. They would figure it all out and eventually maybe they would find their own version of normal. Perhaps it was a gift after all. 

---

A/N: It's done! Holy fuck. This was supposed to be a one shot smut and what the hell did I just write? I hope you all that got invested enjoyed what ever this ended up being. Follow for more porn that apparently turns into massive works of character exploration and strife? I seriously could have made this longer but... I'm supposed to be working on other fics right now and I gotta save the actual Non-smut for things that people will read for the plot. ;)

Thanks to my supporters and hope to see you in the next one!

Comments and feedback appreciated! If you have ideas for what you want to see next, hit me up!

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

All I’m saying is as soon as Steven Grant has one (1) successful date with you he’s going to buy at least a half dozen books about how to pleasure a woman. He’s going to be ready. He’s got note cards.

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Blessed by Ammit - Part 4

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London? Layla has an opportunity to find freedom. Will she take it? What exactly are Harrow's plans with her? Is she ready to find out? Just how deep has Harrow taken her?

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, enlarged breasts/nipples, enlarged clit, overstimulation, masturbation, voyerism, exhibitionism, fucked silly, Vaginal penetration, non protected sex, creampie, cumshot, dubious conscent due to brainwashing, Brain washing.

(Psychological manipulation due to cult worship going on. So big TW for cult stuff.)

Word count: 6,506 - Dirty talk

Pairings: Layla x Harrow

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here Part 3 Here

~*~*~**~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~*

She overheard the murmurs late at night. 

Sitting alone in her room, she was growing used to her only personal contact being with Harrow. He made sure that he was the only real person that she ever spoke with. Her other interactions were always a blur of emotion and sensation as she carried out her duties to his people. 

Soon to be her people. It was getting hard for her to know what her own thoughts were compared to the thoughts that Harrow gave to her. 

I am hungry. This was a thought she knew was hers. Something she could own. Yet even this she could not do anything about. She ate when Harrow brought her food. Even this thought was taken from her as he gave her simple meals and often watched her eat them. 

I want… This thought drifted around her and lost all meaning. She could not want anything. Harrow gave her everything and there was nothing to want. He controlled what she had and what she wanted. 

I am Layla. It was her last shred of person. Even her body was not her own. After Harrow had finally claimed her and filled her, the body became an object to her. Something else he owned and controlled. She only filled it and let it do what he wished of it. 

Even this was being threatened. He had sensed that time was lacking and in times when she was most vulnerable, he stressed the fact to her that she was just a vessel. She was a gift and only that. 

When she heard the loud talking outside of her window, she initially rolled over and attempted to ignore it. 

“...Ammit will be with us soon.” A voice cheered. Excitement was too much for the voice to contain. 

Layla slid out of bed and crept to the window. If they saw her, they would grow quiet and leave. No one was allowed to speak to her or even gaze on her without Harrow’s permission. 

He had started to allow those that were deemed ‘worthy good souls’ special permissions to get closer to her. They would pleasure themselves over her while Harrow watched from the back of the room. His gaze alone was often what sent her over the edge, bringing them her unique gifts of filling them with love. 

The idea of interacting with someone now without Harrow there scared her and thrilled her. She cracked open the window and stood just out of view, listening as they spoke. 

“He has been putting together a group to go to Egypt with him. When Ammit is free, he will bring her to us!” The voice again rose in excitement. 

Another voice hushed him then murmured something she couldn’t quite hear. 

“He promised that our Divine Gift will be filled with the power of Ammit. She will devour the evil souls and spread love to those who are worthy.” The first voice sounded smug. “I’ve felt her love myself recently. I can only imagine what it will feel like once she is truly inhabited by Ammit.” 

Layla pushed the window open and leaned out. “What do you mean? Inhabited?” She called out. 

Two men looked up at her with wide eyes. “Praise to Ammit!” They responded and knelt down. 

“Please, what did you mean?” She wanted to climb out of the window and demand that they explain themselves. In the back of her mind she knew that not that long ago she would have done just that. It would have been easy to slide out on the ledge and climb down the drain pipe to them. Now, the idea of leaving her room without preparation first made her hesitate. 

The men jumped up and ran off, averting their gaze from her. 

She sighed in agitation and moved to pace the room. Harrow had long claimed himself to be Ammit’s Avatar. He carried her powers in his cane and judged people. He was Ammit’s scale. One of her tools. 

He had mentioned to her once about how he looked forward to seeing her feed on the souls of the wicked. 

She trembled and looked down at her body, her fingers going to trace the dark mark of the scales on her abdomen. 

She went to the bedroom door, her hand pausing on the handle. Slowly she opened it. The hallway was dark and empty. She had never left her room without Harrow’s permission. It struck her as odd that the door was unlocked. Had it ever been locked? Had she tried to leave on her own before? 

She shook her head, trying to rid the voice that whispered for her to stay and be good. 

Once out in the hall, she felt a part of her break free. I am Layla. She quietly turned, her bare feet silent on the stone steps as she moved to the front door. Her heart pounded as she pulled it open and slipped out into the open night. Run run run run. 

She rushed down the steps. She was so used to stepping out into the crowd that it felt wrong to not immediately be met by someone crying out for her blessings. It felt wrong not to hear Harrow’s crunching glass behind her. 

She ran blindly. Moving down the familiar path until she got to the town center. Her chair was still set up, waiting for her. Waiting for her to provide her milk to the collection vats and her love to the waiting crowd while Harrow judged them. 

Layla hesitated, her hands going to her chest and feeling the weight of her breast. She had been milked heavily earlier. She estimated that she had until tomorrow early afternoon before the pressure would become painful again and demand another milking. 

She glanced around at the dark town. What was she doing? Where would she go? She was in the middle of a village in the mountains and she was naked. Was she expecting to run down the mountain and not die of exposure to the elements? Even if she could steal a car, what then? Where would she go when she didn’t know how far Harrow’s reach went? 

Tears rolled down her face as she tried to decide what to do. 

“The fear of the unknown is often what drives the sinner to take their first steps to be wicked.” Harrow’s voice whispered across the courtyard and she turned to find him standing there. 

She took a step back and looked at him fearfully. Would he be angry that she had left? 

Harrow walked slowly to the platform and stepped up. “I loved the night as a child. The quiet and calm it brought. Away from prying eyes and pain.” He circled the platform once then raised his arms as if addressing an invisible crowd. “But then my eyes were opened. The night didn’t bring peace. It hid the wicked. The evil acts only turned to the privacy of their homes behind closed doors and windows. The cowardice of the truely wicked.” 

She looked up at him, his audience of one. He moved to look down at her, his face tormented in a private pain. 

“And then there was Khonshu. I fell into him believing that I alone could seek out these sinners. That I could cleanse the night and bring back the peace. I was gifted with looking into their darkened windows and knowing what they had done. Seeing their evil clear as day. It never ended. His push to punish and punish and punish.” He sighed and closed his eyes, lost in a memory. 

A memory stirred for Layla as she recalled her husband sitting alone in the living room, face in his hands as he settled down after a long night with Khonshu’s demands. 

Harrow shook his head. “Why wait to punish a deed? Why not stop it from ever happening? Don’t wait for them to hide in the dark. Weed the garden before the flowers are strangled.” 

He moved to sit in the chair on the platform. “I don’t hide in the dark, Layla. I am here in the open.” 

She stared up at him, her feelings swirling in her head. “Am I going to be sacrificed to Ammit? Is she going to take my body as her own?” 

“Would that not just be exchanging one prison for another?” Harrow leaned forward on his cane. “A god would never be satisfied in the flesh of a human. No human could ever hope to fully contain a god without both beings suffering.” 

“A tool then? You wish to turn me into nothing but a tool to be used.” She eyed his cane, her hand moving to stroke over the scales on her flesh slowly. 

Harrow gave her a curious look. “Is that not what an Avatar is? A tool to be used by a god? I am willing to be used in any way she deems fit for me. I would be so lucky to continue to be useful to her. How would you like to serve Ammit?” 

Layla crossed her arms and glared. “I never asked for this.” 

He nodded. “No. You didn’t. Yet you took to it so well. Look at you. Can you imagine returning to whatever life you had before? No one to gaze at you the way the people here do. No one to follow you. Knowing that you are surrounded by evil and wicked people.” 

“Evil according to you.” She huffed. 

“I don’t hide in the dark.” He looked at her a moment then leaned back in the chair. “You can go if you wish. Nothing is forcing you to stay.” 

“Right now? Just walk out like this?” She laughed. “I’d die out there. Some choice.” 

He smiled. “Tomorrow I can have someone drive you into town. Make sure you get a plane to anywhere in the world you want. It really doesn’t matter. Soon Ammit will be found and free. Her reach will span the globe and you will watch the world be cleansed of those filled with evil. You will see things as they are then.” 

“Someone will stop you.” She looked down. “Marc will stop you.” 

“Marc is not fit to stop anyone. He is lost in his own pain. He doesn’t care about you. He can’t even decide who he wants to be.” He grinned as if he knew some private joke. “When he came to this town not that long ago, he brought chaos with him. Carnage. Right here where you are standing. He killed the good people here just so he could take something that wasn’t his.” 

She couldn’t help but glance down as if she might see herself standing in a puddle of blood. 

“You’re wrong about him.” She stubbornly spoke up. 

“Am I? You don’t sound so sure.” Harrow looked at her for a moment. “When he left you, did you fantasize about him returning to you? How he would walk back into your home with some excuse about a long mission and mistakes? How he would take you back into his arms and call you pet names while kissing you and holding you with his bloody hands? If only you knew the carnage he has caused. The secrets he hides.” 

“Your hands are twice as bloody!” She shot back. “How are your scales any better? Have you ever tried to balance yours? Judge yourself?” 

“I know where my scales sit.” Harrow smirked. “Do you want to judge me yourself? Perhaps you will become your own hero? Devour my soul as your first meal. I would give that to you willingly. I know my work will be carried out in my absence. I know you will crave more souls to feast on once you know the true path to paradise.” 

She stared up at him. Could she judge him? Could she kill him so easily as he did so many others? 

She took a step forward. It would be easy. Lay her hands on him. Feel the shift of the scales on her flesh and then… 

“No. I want to leave.” She looked away. “I refuse to become a pawn of Ammit.” 

Harrow held out a hand to her. “I promise you that if you still feel this way tomorrow, I will let you leave. You are truly a spirit beyond any I have met before.” 

She hesitantly stepped up to the platform and he took her hand. “So beautiful. So dangerous. Tell me… I must know where you plan to go. I only wish to see you safe. I don’t know what I would do if anything should happen to you.” 

She shivered at his kind words. “Home. I would go home.” 

“To Cairo? To London? Which home? You haven’t been back to Cairo in so long. There is nothing for you there. Nothing for you in London, either. Marc will not survive the balancing of the scales. I would hate to see him tarnish you further with his lies.” He stroked a hand over her shoulder gently. 

It was easy to let his voice wash over her again. So soft and soothing. It had become such a presence in her life over the past few weeks. 

He leaned in and whispered softly to her. “And what about your gifts? No one out there will tend to you. Drink your blessed milk… Feel your love. Give you pleasure. You will just be another body in the masses.” 

Doubt filled her and she looked down at her body again. What was she to do about this? If she left tomorrow she would miss her milking session. The pain would be terrible. She would also miss the private session that would follow. 

Layla shook her head, trying to clear away the doubts there. It wasn’t normal. These weren’t her thoughts. 

Harrow sat back down in the chair again and looked up at her. “I don’t hide in the dark. Neither do you. You are here exposed to the world. Anyone that looks at you can see everything. They can see your desires and fears. I can see the conflict inside you. You tell yourself you want to leave but I can see the desire to stay. To be worshiped and cared for.” 

She swallowed hard and looked at him. “Harrow…” She felt her head start to become hazy. She liked being worshiped. She loved how it made her feel so needed. She was here in the open and for the first time in her life she could hide nothing… But she also had no sense of self here… But was that so bad? 

“I’m alone.” She whispered. “Exposed here and alone.” 

“You are far from alone.” Harrow took her by the wrist and pulled her to his lap, sitting her down facing the empty courtyard. “I told you, I do not hide in the dark. I am here for everyone to see and judge.” 

His hands slid over her back, feeling rough and calloused. They felt strong and large against her, confident and knowledgeable as they stroked over sore muscles. “Perhaps my scales tip off balance because of what I had to do to get to where I am now. The things I suffered under Khonshu. If they are off balance, then I accept my judgment. I have never hidden this fact from those that follow me.” 

She arched slightly as he rubbed her shoulders, easing her sore muscles from the added weight on her chest. “You’re a hypocrite.” She whispered. “Claiming your scales are off but that you can be redeemed. Why not let others be redeemed too?” 

“I never claimed that I could be saved. I only intend to work to free Ammit. Let her judge me herself. When I can no longer be of use to her, I will let her devour my soul. Till then, I intend to make the world a better place for those that truly deserve it.” He slid his hands down to stroke over her collar bone gently. 

Layla shivered. “My scales aren’t balanced. Not by your definition. Why save me?” 

Harrow laughed softly and nuzzled her ear. “Because I can use you.” He spread her legs and reached down to casually stroke his fingers up and down her slit, pausing now and then to slide over her clit. “Everything you were when you came to me can be taken away. I can turn you into a vessel for my people. Let them push their feelings on to you and take their passion out on you. Keep them pure.” 

She shuddered as her mind started to turn into a blank hum as each stroke of his fingers sent small jolts of pleasure up her spine. She easily spread her legs further and let him manipulate her. “You watch… You’re always there watching…” 

Harrow smiled and rolled her clit between his fingers. “I make sure your body stays pure. I make sure they don’t get carried away and tempted to lose themselves in you.” 

She groaned and started to roll her hips against his hand. “You like it. You like watching me. You like controlling my body. It gets you off.” 

He shifted and she felt his hard bulge pushing against her backside fully. She still had no idea how he managed to keep such a beast hidden under such thin clothes. She wondered if he felt this turned on watching her in the crowds or from the back of the room while she pleasured others. 

Perhaps he returned to his room alone each night and stroked himself off. That thought somehow made her sad. 

She slid off his lap and turned to nuzzle between his legs. She looked up at him with a smile, asking silently as she brushed her lips across his bulge. 

He slid his hands through her hair gently. “I offered you freedom. Are you afraid to leave? Do you fear not feeling so loved day to day as you are here? Do you fear that you will be rejected? Do you think your husband will reject you again?” 

Layla nuzzled his inner thighs and looked up at him. She realized she was afraid. Afraid that he was right about everything. That she would go home and not feel comfortable there anymore. That she would miss having so many people look at her like she was a goddess. That Marc would leave again, repulsed by what she had become. 

Reaching up she wrapped her fingers around his bulge and started to massage. What if this was the only dick she would ever have? Would she ever be satisfied by any other?

“Please…” She whispered. “Take me with you. You must be so lonely. I can’t stand thinking of you alone in your room all the time with this…” She kissed the bulge and nuzzled him through his pants. “Such a waste. Let me worship you for a change.” 

He looked at her in surprise then smiled. “You are beautiful on your knees like this.” He undid his fly and groaned as his dick slid out, throbbing in need and already dripping in precum. 

She was briefly overwhelmed as she gazed at his dick. She felt her insides clench and tighten as she remembered how it felt to be filled by it. Her own lubricant was starting to drip down her thighs in need. 

He gripped his dick and gave it a couple of strokes then moved to slide the tip across her lips. “Show me your love.” 

She gasped and licked her lips, tasting him. Slowly she leaned in and started to lick over the head, letting her tongue slide over the slit slowly to lick up his fluids. Each slow lick made him inhale deeply as he kept control just barely. 

Her fingers slowly wrapped around his cock and she worked her way down, kissing the length and feeling it slide over her lips. His hands moved to her hair and he stroked gently, encouraging her. 

Meticulously she mapped out the bulging veins with her tongue and lips, moving around his thickness carefully. Carefully she started to lick under the head and shivered as his dick pulsed in her hands. “I can’t believe you waited so long to fuck me…” She whispered as she went back to licking over the slit slowly. 

Harrow let out a slow breath and laughed. “You were not ready. I needed you to want me. To open yourself up to me willingly.” 

Layla shivered and slowly wrapped her lips around the tip, sucking gently. She looked up at him and slowly started to slide down, letting his dick move over her tongue as he stretched her mouth open. 

A whimpering moan escaped her and she dropped a hand to her own clit, working her fingers across herself eagerly. 

Harrow reached down and pulled her arms up till he was holding her wrists tightly. “No no no….” He chastised softly. “You focus on me right now.” 

She gasped as he released her then gripped her hair and pushed her head down sharply. 

His cock slid to the back of her throat and she struggled not to gag. It took her a moment of breathing through her nose to settle and slowly relax her throat. Her hands went to steady herself on his thighs as she carefully let his dick slip further down her throat. 

She groaned and felt his fingers relax in her hair, returning to stroking gently. She slowly pulled up, letting her tongue work around him before sinking back down and letting him push against the back of her throat fully. Her jaw was starting to ache and she was distantly aware that if he became angry or decided to take over he could cause her severe damage. 

He sat back, letting her move at her own pace as she sucked and bobbed on him, deep throating him carefully. Each motion down she struggled to take in more, wanting to push herself and see just how far she could go. 

His hips twitched and he let out a deep moan that nearly sent her over the edge. I’m pleasuring him. He is enjoying this! The thought filled her with warmth and happiness. She held her breath and swallowed. 

He groaned and arched his hips as she took him in fully, her lips meeting the base of his cock. She could feel him pushing down her throat as she held him there, her tongue pressing along his length and her throat squeezing down around him desperately. 

His fingers tightened in her hair and he held her head there, keeping her from coming back up. Mild panic started to build as she found herself unable to breathe. She waited as her throat spasmed around him. 

She could trust him or she could panic and fight. She thought about what he said about wanting him and opening up to him. She hummed around him, letting the vibrations work around him. He gasped and hitched his hips again, his dick moving out just barely before sliding back down. 

She trembled as he started to move, slowly thrusting down her throat, only pulling out enough to let her take in a desperately gasp of air before he pushed back down again. She started to get light headed as he moved. The stretch in her jaw was a thing of the past now and her tongue felt good as she worked it around him. 

“So beautiful.” He whispered as he fucked her mouth. “You belong here. You and I together will spread Ammit’s desires across the world. We will make heaven on earth. I will be her blade and you will be her love.” He gasped and started to move his hips harder, his fingers tightening and releasing her hair with each thrust. 

Layla felt a shiver run down her at his words. No longer gentle whispers, he sounded forceful, making his words seem true. 

“Nnh.” He groaned and ran his fingers through her hair as he pushed fully into her mouth again and held his dick deep down her throat. “Layla… I will give you anything you desire. You are mine.” 

His dick twitched and she had just enough time to wrap her lips around him tightly as he came down her throat. She could feel his thick cum fill her and slide down into her. It was all she could do not to choke as she swallowed around him, drinking it in. 

He pulled out of her mouth slowly and she gasped, collapsing back as she took in air at last. He stood up over her and stroked his dick as she lay back, gasping. 

“You are mine, Layla. Only mine. You give them your love but your body is mine.” He groaned and his dick twitched again, spurting his seed out across her in thick ropes. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes. This was a side of him she had never seen before. Powerful and commanding. This was no longer the kind loving man that worshiped her. This was a man that owned her. 

She felt helpless under him as he knelt down and rolled her over onto her hands and knees. “This body… This mind. Every part of you is mine and only mine. You go where I tell you. You do what I say. You feel pleasure only because I allow it.” 

She looked back in time to see him line up and slide his dick into her fully in one thrust. 

Her body arched and she cried out as he stretched her and pushed deep inside her waiting body. He didn’t wait for her to settle as he started to buck into her roughly, each motion rocking her forward. 

Her mind was blank as he drove into her. It was everything she wanted. Her hips bucked back to meet him and she was distantly aware of making obscene sounds that echoed around the courtyard. 

He reached down and started to work his fingers over her clit harshly as he bucked into her. In no time at all she felt her body race to orgasm and fly over the edge as she clenched down around him. 

Still he bucked into her and worked her over. She caught a glimpse of his face, wild and powerful, before his pounding pushed her down to her arms. It was all she could do not to fall flat on her face as he forcefully pushed into her. 

She felt him pause, holding still deep into her as he came. His cum slid out around his dick, dripping down her thighs as he filled her. Panting, he grunted then started again, bucking into her as he gripped her hips tightly. 

Layla started to babble, whimpering out his name and promises to let him own her. To control her body. She would promise him anything as she rode out another orgasm. His continued thrusts into her over stimulated body quickly pushed her into a consecutive orgasm and she screamed as he reached down again to stroke over her clit. 

Each time her body raced up she clenched around him tightly and he toyed with her, letting her relax before bucking and pinching down on her clit sharply, enjoying the way she moved on him. 

He came again and she watched between her legs as his cum dripped down under her. She imagined that she could see her stomach bulge from the force of his movements and she rested a hand on her lower abdomen, feeling as his dick pushed down into her. 

When Harrow pulled out she collapsed, trembling on the platform floor. She sensed him moving behind her then felt him lift her up. She smiled, waiting to be taken into his caring arms and taken back to her room. 

She felt him sit in the chair and move her around. “We are not done yet, Layla. I want you to only think of me when you feel pleasure. I want your body to remember me and crave me every moment of your life.” 

She found herself straddling his lap facing him. She was lifted and she felt him push against her again before he let her sink down onto his cock once more. 

“Ahh!” She arched and rocked her hips as he filled her in new angles and ways. His fingers dug into her hips as he encouraged her to move her hips and start to ride him. 

Her arms wrapped around his neck and shoulders as she was forced to gaze into his eyes. He looked at her with pure lust as he moved into her. Fingers found her nipples and started to work them over, rolling and pulling, making her arch her back as she was overwhelmed in sensation. 

Milk started to drip from her nipples as her chest was stimulated. He leaned in and took a nipple into his mouth and sucked, drinking her down as her hips continued to rock on him. 

A free hand slipped to her clit and he once more started to stroke and pinch, working her into a frenzy as her body peaked in waves. 

She felt him fill her again, his dick pulsing hotly inside her. He sat back, grunting for a moment as he looked at her. “Look at you.” He cupped her hot face, his thumb sliding over her lower lip. “This is how you were meant to be. Filled with my cum and not a single thought in that head but the desire for me to fuck you.” 

Layla nuzzled his hand, parting her lips as she let her tongue slide out to lick his thumb. She felt dirty and used and excited all at once. His words echoed in her and while they made her angry, they also made her want to do things that felt shameful. 

She smiled and reached down to where he joined her. Slowly she slid a finger through the cum leaking out of her and brought it up to her mouth and licked it clean. “Ah… Harrow… Do I please you?” 

He leaned in and captured her lips in a deep possessive kiss, tasting her and owning her. “Yes…” He smiled. “I will take you to Egypt with me. Together we will find Ammit.” 

He pulled out of her and let her stand before him on shaky legs. He spread her legs and watched as his cum slid out of her, running down her thighs. “You are so beautiful like this…” 

She reached down and slowly spread her folds, feeling the thick cum drip from her. 

He smirked. “I would have you stand here all day to let the world see you filled with my cum. Let them know that you are mine and through me and me alone do they get to feel your love and devotion…” He stood up and slid a hand under her, collecting some of the fluid before holding it up for her to lick off his hand. 

She flushed as she licked over his fingers slowly. “Anything, Harrow… Anything for you…” 

He smiled and lifted her. “We leave for Egypt tomorrow. Let’s get you cleaned up and ready for your trip.” 

He let her walk back to the house so that she could feel his cum slide down her thighs with each step. She was covered in him and filled. She was his. Her mind filled with his name, leaving no room for her own thoughts as he stood with her in the shower and cleaned her. 

She felt his fingers work inside her as he washed every part of her and she simply stood still and let him. Any thoughts of escape or leaving had long gone from her and she distantly wondered if this was part of his power. 

She fell into a haze for the rest of the night, vaguely aware of him moving around her and preparing her for their trip. 

When morning came, she found herself in a robe that buttoned down the front to conceal her naked body underneath. She wore boots that came up to her mid calves and her hair was tied back in a loose ribbon. 

As she walked through town to the car, she noticed several vats that stored her milk being moved to the community building where food was often distributed. She had stored more than enough of her milk to last them many months. 

It felt strange to feel cloth covering her body. She didn’t know how long she had been there, but the feel of the cloth against her breasts and nipples felt rough and wrong. 

She got in the car next to Harrow and looked at him nervously. “We will come back here, right? The people… My people need me.” 

He smiled lovingly, his kind face once more back in place. “Of course, my dear. When we return with Ammit, you will be worshiped as a goddess.” 

She smiled and gazed out the window as they left the village. Her people would wait for her… 

It was a long car ride out of the mountains. When the first real city appeared, she felt anxiety start to fill her. Her mind struggled as she saw people that did not belong with their group. Normal everyday people walking around as if nothing was wrong. 

When she thought it was going to be too much, she felt a hand slide up under her robe and fingers start to stroke over her slit. 

Her anxiety faded as she spread her legs and looked at Harrow, her lips parted with a soft gasp. 

“Be calm, my Divine Gift.” He slid a finger into her and moved it around slowly. Her insides were still sensitive after the pounding she had taken the night before. She gasped and squirmed on his finger, struggling against the desire to close her legs and protect her sensitive parts and the desire for him to keep going and bring her off. 

He laughed and removed his finger. “Be calm.” He patted her thighs and returned to his own work as he made calls and organized his people. 

She squirmed in her seat and gazed out the window in a haze of need. What would these people do or say if they saw her? If she stepped out and stripped and pulled them close to her loving body? 

She laughed softly and imagined how she might love each and every one of them. 

Harrow had a private plane waiting for them. The people that waited to meet them greeted him warmly and gazed at her with a mix of curiosity and eagerness. 

She smiled to them, relaxed at being surrounded by people that knew her again. 

Once in the air, Harrow worked on his plans then would pull her close and tease her body, reminding her of her place at his side. She spent most of the plane ride in a haze of need and empty thoughts. She felt as if she had been drugged somehow and any time anxiety threatened to creep into her, he found her and teased out her fears with bliss and pleasure. 

He fucked her once as they neared Cairo, making her forget about her home country and how close she was to the potential for freedome. 

She reluctantly cleaned herself up in the bathroom, wiping away his cum and her own fluids. She didn’t want to be a distraction to him in his moment of leadership with his people. She couldn’t be a distraction to them either. They needed to put all their efforts into finding their Goddess. 

She was taken to a hotel and told to wait. 

He promised to come back to her and present her to Ammit. His promise was punctuated as he fingered her and quickly brought her off, leaving her trembling and gasping on the bed. 

She waited. Day turned to night and she was brought food by one of his followers. Night turned to day and she paced the hotel room, wondering when he might return. She tried to distract herself by masturbating any time she felt anxious or fearful. Sweet endorphin release kept her mind blank and calm. 

When night came again, she could hear the city outside erupting into chaos. Screams and cries and the sounds of things crashing. “It’s him!” She knew he had succeeded. Ammit was close. The scales on her abdomen glowed and she felt a familiar sensation. Not just one soul, but many souls being judged all at once. 

Fear rushed over her. Harrow had won. What did that mean? She would always feel this. The buzz and tingle of the souls being freed. Being devoured. He had promised that she would learn to devour souls too. Did she want this? It didn’t matter, it was too late to go back now. Harrow had won. 

Panic overtook her and she felt any shred of her old life starting to fade. Any bit of hope that she had clung to falling away. She didn’t like this. She didn’t like this feeling. 

She stripped off her cloak and lay back on the bed, working her fingers over herself vigorously. Anything to distract herself from this feeling. 

She worked herself into several orgasms, refusing to stop for fear of what her mind might return to. 

Long after the screams and crashing stopped, she heard the door open and she spread her legs and spread her folds open wide, eager to greet Harrow and hope that he felt the need for a victorious fuck. 

Someone walked into the room and she was distantly aware that this was not Harrow. 

“Layla?” The voice was soft and timid. “Oh god… Layla… What did he do to you?” 

She looked up at the dark eyes and dark hair. He was scuffed up and sweaty, scraped and bloody in some spots from battle. 

She trembled and recognition swam to the front of her mind. “Marc?” 

She groaned as wrong and painful emotions rushed forward. Emotions and thoughts she had not let herself feel since she had first been taken. “Nnh…” She arched her hips and started to frantically stroke her clit, desperate to put it all back. She didn’t want this. She couldn’t go back. Where was Harrow? Her husband was here… This was her husband… She loved her people. She needed her people. She loved Marc. She loved him with everything. He had finally come for her and she was free…. 

She cried out as she orgasmed, squirting her fluids across her hands, milk dripping from her pert nipples. She smiled and slowly stroked her fingers over her folds, working them up inside her as she smiled at him. 

“Marc…” She trembled as she spread herself for him fully and used her other hand to pull a nipple till she sprayed milk out, eager to feel him take from her. “Come feel my love, Marc. Let me love you… Let me bless you...” 

--

A/N: One more?

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

A03 Baby/Requests are open

Got one. Uploading all the posted stories now. I'm going to cross-post everything so if you like one format over the other, it's there. Follow me over there or here or both!

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[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Blessed by Ammit - Part 3

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London? Harrow shows Layla what it means to be loved by her followers and she discoveres her purpose in his plans. Will she accept her new life or will she be able to resist?

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, enlarged breasts/nipples, enlarged clit, Orgasm denial/withheld, overstimulation, masturbation, voyerism, exhibitionism, Vaginal penetration, non protected sex, creampie, cumshot, dubious conscent due to brainwashing, Brain washing.

(We're starting to get a little psychological here people. So big TW for cult stuff.)

Word count: 6,800 - Naughty

Pairings: Layla x Harrow

Part 1 Here Part 2 Here

~*~**~**~*~*~**

He never forced her. 

It would have been easier if he had. She could have put up a fight. Could have pretended that it was all against her will. 

Yet every morning he treated her with utter kindness. Whispered sweet encouragement into her ear at every turn. Praised her and drank her in with his eyes. 

When he did touch her, it was soothing and like a man touching something utterly sacred. His fingers worked lotions into her skin and he cleaned her so lovingly. 

The only time he placed a cruel hand on her was when she showed reluctance to face the town’s people.

The second week, she had broken down. She stood before the crowd sobbing. Her breasts hurt with the pressure of too much milk and her clit was painfully swollen from the constant torment of the pump. She had resisted, unwilling to imagine another session of being toyed with. 

He had known that this was a pivotal moment for her. She could see it in his eyes as he looked at her. 

“You don’t have to do anything, Layla.” He had whispered to her. “They are happy to just bask in your presence.” He had taken her to the stage and let her kneel down. 

Leaving her there, he returned to the crowd and greeted his followers. She watched them move towards him, touching his arms and shoulders. They loved him. They would do anything for him. They would die for him if he asked. 

They did not judge the scales every day. Today there were no new faces. These were long time followers and they had gathered to catch a glimpse of the divine. 

How easily they turned from her to him as he spoke to them and offered his advice and thoughts. 

Layla rose to her feet and stepped down from the stage. This was different. There was nothing sexual in this. His love was so tender with them. He laughed and hugged one of his followers, like a family man returning to his people. 

She walked to the group and blinked in surprise when they turned to her with wide smiles and greeted her as they did Harrow. They laid their hands on her shoulders and arms, asking for her blessings. 

She slowly moved through the group, her ankle bracelets jingling with each step. A sound that announced her presence, much like Harrow’s crunch of glass. 

She didn’t know what to do. She was not charming or charismatic like he was. She didn’t have his soft words of wisdom or comradery with them like he did. 

Still, they looked to her eagerly, hopeful smiles and bright eyes as they waited for her to greet them. 

She recalled the first day in London with the group. How easy it had been to please them. Even before she had earned their respect. What did she have to offer them? 

Looking to the first man nearest to her she lifted her breast gently. She repeated the words Harrow had whispered to her.  “Drink from me and be blessed…” 

The man’s eyes widened and he eagerly moved to take her nipple into his mouth, suckling hungrily. She felt her milk give and splash into his mouth as he drank. 

“Yes…” She stroked the back of his head and groaned. It was far more intimate and gentler than the milking device. The pain of the pressure was immediately relieved. She glanced over at a woman and held out a hand. “Come… Drink from me and be blessed.” 

Layla gasped out as the woman squeezed her breast and started to drink. “Take your fill…” She stroked her hands through their hair and shivered. “I have plenty for everyone.” 

When they had taken all they wanted, they released her nipples and the next couple stepped up, eagerly latching on and suckling. 

More and more people around her turned to watch, eagerly awaiting their turn. Some took only a small sip, others stayed at her breast for far longer as they drank hungrily. 

It was better than the milker. The milker felt like a display and punishment. This was personal. The way they each moved in close to her and clung to her. How some held her breast with their hands while others only pulled with their mouths. She could feel her soul moving into them to fill them. It was almost overwhelming. 

“Be blessed.” She whispered to each person as they took from her. Was this love? 

Her eyes searched the crowd and she found Harrow standing there, smiling as he leaned on his cane and watched. 

A small thrill rushed through her at his approving look. He was pleased. She wanted to please him. She flushed and a hand slipped down to her groin. She slowly slid a finger over her clit and groaned. 

Everyone had taken their fill from her and they still waited around, basking in her presence. They reached for her, touching her any place they could. She didn’t take her eyes off Harrow as she leaned into their touches. 

Her fingers stroked over her clit harder, working around the swollen nub and pressing harder with each moment until she was starting to pant. “Ah…” 

Her hips rocked and she glanced at the people around her. They stroked her back and grazed their fingers over her arms and chest, some feeling her breasts and nipples. Yet none of them dared to touch her inappropriately. Their hands only sought after her grace and favor. 

Harrow had promised no one would ever touch her where it mattered. He was a man of his word. 

Her fingers moved and she slid one down past her folds and felt her dripping slickness as it pressed up into her. “Yes…” She groaned and moved her other hand to start massaging a breast, squeezing and stroking roughly. 

Her eyes locked with Harrow’s again and she started to slide her fingers in and out faster, rubbing across her clit eagerly. He was always there. Always watching her. Always pushing pleasure onto her. Touching her but never forcing himself on her. Each time she did anything that he approved of she was given a burst of pure pleasure. 

She took an unsteady step towards him and whimpered as the gathered people blocked her path. They clung to her, feeling her skin heat up as she stroked her own insides. 

Why wouldn’t he touch her? He was clearly pleased with her. Yet he just stood there watching. Unmoving as she arched and started to move her fingers faster. 

“Oh god…” She breathed and slid her fingers out, spreading her folds fully as she felt her lubricant drip down her hand heavily. “Look at me…” She groaned and sank to her knees. “Ah… Want me. Do you not want me?” 

She arched her hips and kept herself spread wide, letting everyone see her trembling inner muscles, begging to be filled. 

She heard the crunching glass before she felt his shadow fall over her. She couldn’t help but smile as she looked up at him and stroked her fingers inside again. 

He held out a hand to her and it took a moment for her foggy brain to realize he was asking to help her up. She took his hand and he lifted her back to her feet. 

“My dear, you do not belong in the dirty streets like this. This is no place for a Divine being.” He guided her back to the platform and sat her down in the chair he usually occupied. 

He moved to kneel down before her and gently brushed the dirt from her knees. “There… Good as new.” He smiled. “Now, I believe you were giving your love to the people?” 

He stood up and moved to the side. 

She blinked then glanced at the crowd that had re-gathered before her. 

Her legs spread slowly and she arched her hips up, spreading herself again. “Harrow…” She moaned and looked up at him. “Why won’t you touch me? I want to be filled…” 

He laughed softly and moved to stand behind her. He rested his hands on her shoulders as if to present her to the people. 

“Ammit’s gift to us is glorious indeed!” He spoke to them over her. “See how she sends us her love? See how she allows us to bask in her pleasure?” 

Layla shuddered and started to stroke her clit again, trembling as she felt the pleasure rushing through her. “Look at me… Fill me. I want you to fuck me… Please! I need something inside me!” She cried out and worked her fingers over herself desperately. 

She reached orgasm quickly and gasped as her fluids rushed out of her. She looked down at her hand, now covered in her own lubricant. 

Harrow reached down and lifted her hand. She looked up at him as he slowly licked the juices from her fingers. 

She groaned and felt her insides flutter as she watched his tongue work over her fingers in low slow strokes. Slowly she curled her fingers and encouraged him. She could imagine that tongue moving over her. Moving into her. 

He smiled at her and lowered her hand. “Wonderful. How wonderful that you would share with me. With us. If only I could collect your love in a cup and pass it around. To drink down your life giving milk and then sip at your love.” 

She flushed and looked out at the gathered people. Blushing, she looked down. “Why won’t you fuck me?” 

Harrow leaned in and nuzzled her hair softly. His voice was a whisper only for her. “When was the last time your husband fucked you? He’s left you waiting for him for so long, hasn’t he? Abandoning you? Becoming someone else just to avoid you. Have you been empty and waiting for all this time? Laying alone at night as you pleasure yourself and dream of him?” 

She blinked in confusion. Her husband? Marc… She had wanted him. Loved him. He had left her. But even before then. She remembered just before he left… How they fought. How she had tried to have sex with him and he had pushed her away, leaving her aching and wanting. 

She shivered and looked down to find her hand back at her groin, slowly playing with her clit to chase away the bad feelings and memories. Each burst of pleasure took her further away from the past and further away from reality. 

“Good girl.” He stroked her back gently. “Forget those things. Chase away those memories with the love of Ammit.” 

“I want you.” She whimpered. “Please… Fuck me.” 

“No.” Harrow patted her shoulder gently. “I promised you that nothing would touch you there, didn’t I?” He smiled and for the first time, his smile was cruel. “Your pleasure is to be shared and pleasure like this is all you will know. Soon it will be all you need.” 

She looked up at him in fear. “No. Please… I… I need it! I need it!” She looked out at the group and spread her legs desperately, holding her folds open wide as she arched her hips. “Please! I command it! Fuck me!” 

The people all knelt down, paying their respects but still ignoring her cries. 

“You cannot force their love. It must be earned.” He lifted her and she stumbled to her feet. “Your love is not yet pure. You must choose this life.” He slowly guided her off the platform. “If someone with unbalanced scales offered you their cock I am not convinced you would refuse it. We can’t let you become tarnished.” 

“No…” Layla whimpered as he pulled her back through the people who all stayed kneeling as she passed. “Please! Let me…Let me love you! I can…I can give you my love! My blessings! Let me bless you in Ammit’s name!” 

Harrow lifted her into his arms as he carried her, kicking and struggling, back to the home. 

Once inside, he took her back to her room and placed her gently on the bed. 

She looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. “In private, right? No one will know. You can fuck me. I…I can ride you!” She crawled across the bed and hooked her fingers into his pants desperately. 

“Do you want to see the true power of Ammit?” He pushed her onto her back again and smiled. “Her love?” 

Layla nodded eagerly. He pulled cuffs out of his pocket and she wondered if he always had them with him, prepared to chain her up if she decided to fight back. He moved to cuff her wrists to the bed frame then stood at the foot of the bed. 

He set his cane to the side and undid his pants. He slid them down and stood back up, letting her get a good look at him. 

Her eyes widened and she stared as his erection bobbed free. It had to have been the biggest dick she had ever seen in person. It promised to stretch her wide and dig deep into her if he wanted. 

In the back of her mind she was terrified. Some part of her remembered life before this town and wanted nothing more than to return to it. To find Marc and make up with him. To go back to married life and simpler adventures. 

She bent her knees and lifted her hips. The new part of her had an itch that demanded to be scratched. She wanted to feel that giant dick in her. She wanted to let him fuck her into the bed and beyond. She wanted to feel those full balls slap against her as he pounded her. 

She groaned in anticipation as he stepped out of his pants and kneeled on the bed between her thighs. 

“You truly are beautiful… But I don’t think you appreciate your true purpose here.” He sat back on his heels and started to stroke his dick slowly. “They could worship you like a goddess. You could be the embodiment of Ammit.” 

She watched his hand move, trembling in need. “You mean like her Avatar?” 

Harrow smiled and slid a hand over the mark of scales on her abdomen. “When we release her from her prison, my hope is that she lets me be her will. To grant me full power to change this world.” He tapped a finger on her clit lightly then sat back and stroked himself again. “But you… You can be her love. Convert the masses and give them something to worship. These scales could judge their souls and release the unworthy. Devour their souls like the great Ammit herself.”

Layla squirmed and gasped. “Judge them…” The back of her mind rebelled. “You mean murder…” She whimpered and her thighs shifted, unsure if she wanted them open or closed. 

“If their scales are unbalanced, it is a simple act of kindness to remove them from this world.” He leaned over her and she could feel his heavy dick lay across her stomach fully. “Why let them make others suffer? Why let them suffer? Especially when there is so much pleasure to have in this world?” 

“Pleasure…” She let her thighs fall open and arched, trying to encourage him. “You…You want me to bring pleasure?” 

He smiled and sat back up, stroking his dick slowly. “Did you not feel it? Every time someone’s scales were found to be balanced? You are pleasure. My people can look at you and see the pleasure that can be had in this world. It’s what Ammit gave to you. Once the world is free of evil people, there is only happiness and pleasure. When they watch you writhing and moaning, they are feeling your joy. It seeps into them and they can imagine how good you feel. How good they could feel. You will give them pleasure through your gift.”  

“I want them to feel good…” She licked her lips. “Do you want them to share me? Are you going to have them fuck me?” 

“No.” He reached up and tapped a finger on her clit again then smiled as she gasped out. “We aren’t that kind of group. They are happy enough to love you. To know that their love gets you off. Eventually you will be able to reach orgasmic bliss from just knowing that they love you. When you realize your purpose here, you will be able to fill them with love each time you orgasm.” His hand lovingly caressed the mark of the scales on her abdomen.  

He closed his eyes and let out a deep moan as he stroked himself harder. It was enough to make her buck her hips as she watched him. “Please…please please please…” 

He looked down at her and laughed. “This isn’t yours. You are going to sit there and feel my love. Appreciate what has been given to you. Show me how much you want this life.” He leaned in again and let his dick slide over her sex then up to rest on her clit heavily. “Orgasm without stimulation and then we’ll talk about what you have earned.” 

He sat back again and continued to stroke. 

She stared up at him. “Nnh… Wait. Please. I can’t!” She struggled against her restraints and thrashed. “Touch me! Just touch me!” 

He watched her squirm as he stroked. She could see his pre-cum dripping down his dick heavily, running over his knuckles. 

“I’ll suck you. Please… Let me suck you!” She held open her mouth, tongue hanging out needily. 

“Nnh… And what wonderful lips you have to wrap around a dick… But that is not part of the deal.” He smiled and his hips jerked slightly. “What a sight to pleasure myself to. It has been a test to hold myself back since we found you. Since we took you into our loving arms…” 

She gasped and tried to move back against the bed in an effort to seek stimulation. He shifted and positioned himself to sit right between her thighs, spreading her legs open wide and lifting her hips up to rest against him, effectively preventing her from rubbing on anything. 

A frustrated cry escaped her as she watched him stroke his fat dick so agonizingly close to her wide open hole. 

“I have passed my test, Layla.” He smirked. “Can you pass yours?” He shifted his hips slightly and let the tip of his dick slide over her open hole, letting her feel the start of a delicious stretching before he pulled back and continued to stroke. 

She thrashed angrily. “Stop teasing me and just fuck me already!” She could feel her lubricant running down her heavily, soaking her as she jerked her hips. Even her milk was starting to drip from her nipples as she felt her frustration grow. 

“Be still!” He let out a booming command and she froze, looking up at him in surprise. “Quiet yourself.” He continued in his soft voice. “Feel it without feeling it.” 

He angled his dick down so it was pointing at her opening and stroked himself from base to tip. His hips rocked and he moved so each thrust moved his dick just a breath away from her. 

She watched him, slowly rocking her hips to match his pace. She felt her body tingle and heat up as her arousal grew. She was getting closer. She could almost feel him against her if she pictured it hard enough. 

He grunted and his hips bucked. His cum splattered across her stomach and chest heavily, coming out in thick ropes. Layla gasped as it splattered over her in such a large amount. 

He sat up and she groaned as he smiled down at her. “Pity. You looked like you were getting close.” 

Her eyes widened as he got up. 

“I’m going to keep you tied up for now. I don’t want you to get any ideas about pushing yourself over the edge. If you need anything urgently… Well, you can yell. Otherwise I’ll be back in a few hours. My duties have been ignored long enough.” 

“Wait!” She squirmed in the bed, arching her hips. “Don’t you want to go again? You…You’re still half hard! I bet you could go again. I bet you could go three times without trying!” 

He laughed. “My dear… I could go five.” He patted her on the hip. “But I have control. I know my place.” He tapped her on the clit again with a single finger then left. 

She lay there, trembling and trying to figure out what to do. What was expected of her. What had she done wrong? Had she done something wrong to be punished like this? Surely she had… She needed to be better. She needed to make him happy. To make her people happy. That was her job, right? 

She pictured their happy faces. Their smiles as they gazed at her with love. Yet her thoughts kept returning to the feel of Harrow’s dick pressing against her. The feeling of her own pleasure. Of her own needs. 

Perhaps she was not such a gift of Ammit after all. She was too selfish. All she could think of was how good it would feel to have someone else pleasuring her. 

Tears ran down her face as she desperately tried to figure out what the right answer was. 

After an hour of self pity and misery, she stared down at her body, still covered in his cum. At her large tits and nipples that Ammit had given to her. Lifting her head she could see her enlarged clit. A gift and punishment for not being thankful enough at first. 

Her mind went back to Harrow’s repeated taps at her clit. If he wouldn’t fuck her, then she would have to get off on her own. Harrow had gotten off touching himself. Stroking over her… Showing off his control of the situation, of her, of himself. 

She flushed. “I know what I need to do.” 

When Harrow returned, she smiled at him lovingly, hoping that she looked confident. “I can do it. I know I can do it. Let me give them my love.” 

He looked at her for a moment. “You look lovely like this.” He moved to uncuff her. “We are going to try a different setting. I’ve organized a special meeting with you and some of our followers that have expressed a special desire to feel your love personally. If you can give them what they need, I will give you a reward.” 

He gently wiped his cum from her body with a towel then took her wrist and guided her through the building. This time he took her to a large side room she had never been in before. 

In the center of the room was a chair with stirrups for her legs. She nervously took a seat and looked at Harrow with a nervous smile as the chair reclined back slightly. He strapped her ankles to the stirrups and spread her legs wide. Her arms were lifted over her head and tied to the back of the chair. 

He ran his hands down her slowly and soothingly. “You will enjoy this, Layla. Just relax.” 

She lifted her hips and watched as he stroked her thighs. “Yes… Anything.” She squirmed a little and felt her heart start to pound. 

He pulled up two straps over the tops of her thighs and she flushed as he attached clamps to her folds. Tightening the straps she whimpered as they held her open, fully exposing her entrance and letting her fluids drip down heavily. 

Harrow held up a small golden ring and slicked it up in her juices. He slipped it over her clit slowly, making her moan as she felt it slide down to the base of her clit. It left her fully exposed and drew attention to her swollen part. 

He held up a tube of cream and let her read the lable. Stimulating cream. It was designed to arouse and sensitize. 

“Wait… I don’t need that. Harrow… What are you planning?” She nervously started to squirm in the chair. 

He spread the cream over his fingers and first stroked them over her nipples then moved down to her groin. He slowly rubbed the cream over her inner labia then heavily across her clit, making her whimper and moan. His fingers slid into her, making her hips buck up as she tried to fuck herself on them. 

He laughed and moved to hold his slick fingers up. “So desperate for attention.” He moved his fingers to her mouth and she licked the fluids off eagerly as he stroked her lips. 

Lastly he moved down and stroked the cream over her anus, working the ring gently before sliding a finger inside her and spreading the cream generaously. 

He stepped back and smiled. “Wait here. I think you are ready.” 

Harrow left the room and she slumped back in the chair fully. She could feel a vague tinging sensation in her lips first. They felt cool and hot at the same time. She licked them and her tongue also started to tingle. 

The tingling spread to her nipples and vagina then to her ass. She squirmed a little then the tingling turned to burning. “Nhh…” She whimpered as she felt her lips start to swell a little. Her nipples were rock hard and throbbing. Her clit felt like it was on fire and her insides were throbbing. She felt a shiver run through her and her ass started to tingle and burn. 

“Oh god…” She arched her hips and her spread labia pulled on the clamps sending a hint of pain through her. She gasped and squirmed harder. If only she could feel something… anything… She suddenly knew that any stimulation would stop the fire. If someone would touch her or better yet, fuck her… 

The door opened and several men came into the room followed by Harrow. 

Harrow stood to the side as the men gathered around Layla. 

She looked up at them, panting and desperate. None of them were wearing pants and their dicks were fully erect. “Yes… Fuck me. Fill me!” 

They started to stroke themselves, groaning and panting as they stood over her. She could see the pleasure and lust in their eyes as they worked themselves over. 

Layla looked over at Harrow who only smiled and watched. The first splatter of cum arched across her thighs and she realized that this was all they had come to do. 

“No… Touch me! Touch me!” She arched and moved her hips. “You can fuck me anywhere… Please!” 

Another splatter of cum landed on her stomach and she felt the hot fluid pool over her. A twinge of pleasure shot through her and watched the dicks bob and twitch around her. 

They were enjoying her. They loved her body. All they needed was to be near her. 

She licked her lips and breathed heavily, squirming her body and slowly rocking her hips as she looked to their faces. Their faces were flushed and filled with passion as they watched her. 

“Ah…” She shivered as a splash of cum hit her chest, dripping down her breasts thickly. Another rope of thick cum landed on her nipples and she whimpered as a wave of pleasure rushed through her. 

“More…” She looked down at her body as it was quickly being covered in their desire. Another string of cum across her thighs. Another over her tits. 

Something inside her started to build. She licked her lips and held out her tongue. A splash of cum hit her upper chest and she shifted enough to catch part of it on her tongue. 

Layla groaned and arched her hips up. Her clit was burning and her insides pulsing in need. Each beat of her heart sent a new heat through her as the cream only intensified. 

A new heat started to build as more cum covered her. She could almost feel the scales on her abdomen start to shift. Her mind clouded and she was aware that she was whispering strange words that she had heard Harrow call out before as he summoned the powers of Ammit. 

The men around her started to moan as her pleasure built. There was a flash of purple light and Layla at last reached orgasm, her body thrashing as it washed over her powerfully. 

The scales on her abdomen were glowing dark purple as she thrust her hips. The light spread around the room, filling the men as they stroked themselves and felt her pleasure. They came again, staying hard as they sprayed across her. 

Layla groaned and writhed in the chair, every part of her body felt alight in pleasure. Each wave of bliss that washed over her pulsed out to the men and caused them to shoot their cum across her. 

Looking over, she watched as Harrow licked his lips. She could see the bulge in his pants, straining against the thin fabric there. His hand slowly slipped down and rubbed it slowly as he watched her. 

She wanted him. She wanted him with everything she had. Trembling, she whispered the words of Ammit again as she road another orgasm. The men cried out and were gifted another wave of pleasure as they came over her till she was dripping in their seed. 

“Enough.” Harrow smirked and stepped forward. “Your followers thank you for your divine gifts.” He laughed softly. “You should go before she over does it. One can only experience so much godly love.” 

The men murmurered their gratitude and quickly fled the room, groaning and panting in exhaustion. 

Harrow looked down at Layla and stroked a hand over her stomach, collecting their semen. He moved his hand up to her and let her lick it up, drinking down the cum eagerly. 

She groaned as the felt the hot fluid touch her lips. “Ah… Yes…” She trembled and sucked his fingers, sliding her tongue down them slowly. 

Her eyes met Harrow’s and she felt another wave of pleasure building. “Can you feel it too?” She smiled. “Can you feel my love?” 

Her scales burned and she started to whisper the words again. Harrow covered her mouth with a hand and laughed. “Save it for your followers. Watching you is all that I need.” 

He slid his hand down her and slowly stroked a finger over the tip of her clit, sending flashes of pleasure through her over stimulated body. 

“I must leave for Egypt soon. I found the scarab and Ammit awaits.” He circled the ring around her clit and she whimpered. “I am sure your husband will follow me there. He will try to stop me from releasing Ammit. Stop you from feeling her bless you directly.” 

Layla’s eyes focused in on Harrow. “Marc…” She shivered. Marc was going to fight Harrow. Harrow was going to Egypt with the scarab. Emotions filled her. 

“Yes… Marc Spector.” Harrow laughed. “He will try and he will fail. If he gets in my way, I will kill him.” He tapped a finger against her clit fully as he spoke. 

She groaned and whimpered. “No… Don’t… Don’t kill him. Please…” She gasped and arched her hips. 

“I will kill him.” He smiled and stroked over her clit again. “I could leave you here. Let you continue to be worshiped and pleasured or I can bring you with me. If you come with me, perhaps you could betray me and help your husband. Would you like that? Or would you prefer to stay here and experience the love of Ammit?” 

He pinched her clit and stroked it roughly. 

“Ah…Ah!” She gasped out and bucked her hips. “NNh… No… Please…” She was so close to another orgasm. Just a little more… “Marc… Marc…” She groaned and shook her head. 

Harrow pulled back and she let out a cry. “You must choose.” He slid his pants down and let his erection slide out. It was already dripping in precum, the veins down the sides bulging and throbbing. 

She gasped and stared at him. 

“Me and this life of love or going back to the broken life with Marc?” He gave his dick a few strokes then pushed the head against her spread open entrance, letting the tip sit against her. 

Her mind fogged over and she breathed hard, trembling as she struggled to hold still. “I can’t…” 

He pushed forward just enough to let the fat head start to spread her, rubbing against her burning insides. His fingers found her clit again and stroked over it lightly. “I will ask you once more then I will not ask again. Do you follow Ammit or do you follow a life of sin?” 

Her hips twitched and she let out a sob as she shook her head and struggled against the conflict inside. “Please….Please don’t make me do this…” 

He smirked and stroked his dick slowly. She could feel his precum dripping down her folds now, joining her own fluids. “I am not making you do anything, Layla.” He pushed forward just a little further, letting her start to really feel the stretch. 

She struggled against her restraints, letting out a frustrated scream. She lay back, sobbing as she looked up at him. 

He reached up and released her restraints on her hands then down to release her ankles. “Choose. Return to your room or continue to feel Ammit’s love.” 

Layla closed her eyes as her legs wrapped around Harrow’s waist and her hips bucked up hard. She felt his dick slide into her in one fluid motion and everything blurred. 

She could feel his huge cock stretching her and digging deeply into her, pushing into places she had never reached before. Her hips squirmed and she felt his dick slide back out, dragging against her sensitive insides before pushing back in again to touch new places. 

He changed angles and she felt him push hard. Her lower abdomen stretched upward under the scales, sending a jolt through her system as she clamped down around him tightly. 

Fingers stroked her clit till she relaxed again and he slid back out, dragging her soul with him before he pushed back inside. 

She was pushed over the edge quickly, screaming as she gripped his shoulders and dug her fingers in. Still he pulled and pushed into her, taking his time to make sure she felt each and every part of him. 

There was a flash of purple that filled the room and Harrow laughed as her body spasmed. “Yes… Make them feel your pleasure. Let the whole village know that you have chosen Ammit. Let them feel each time you reach bliss.” 

She cried out and bucked on him again, whimpering as he kept the slow pace. He stroked his hands up over her body, smearing the cum of the other men into her skin as she writhed under him. 

After what felt like ages, he burried his dick deep into her and she felt it twitch as it shot out his cum, filling her and sliding out around his dick. She peaked again, the scales on her abdomen glowing dark purple. She imagined the whole town feeling her shameful pleasure as she was fucked and she squirmed, whimpering as he started to move in her again. 

She looked up at him with wide eyes as he continued the steady pace of dragging out of her to the tip then sliding back in fully. 

He gave her a toothy smile and hitched his hips, pushing in harder. “I am going to fill you with everything I have. I have been saving this for you since I first saw you.” He laughed softly. “Layla… So beautiful…” He kissed her roughly and she eagerly returned it, feeling her lips tingle against his. 

It felt like ages as he moved in her slick insides until he came again, his cum overflowing around them and running down her thighs. He only paused a moment as she squeezed down around him tightly, then he started up the pace again. 

She started to thrash as he pushed her past her breaking point. His fingers stroked her nipples then slid down and started to work over her clit again. Each time his finger slid over her clit he pushed deep into her then pulled out as his finger traced around the ring that still held her firmly exposed and vulnerable. 

Layla squeezed her thighs around him, trying to close herself off but unable to escape. Her cries turned to breathless gasps as he pushed her over the edge again and kept toying with her. 

She felt him spurt inside her again and she prayed for him to be satisfied. Her body spasmed as he started to move again. She gripped his shoulders and tried to hold him in place. To still him and give her a moment to let her body rest. To stop the nerves from firing constantly each time they were touched. 

He grunted and shoved her back. Leaning up over her so he could look down at her fully he smiled as he continued to stroke her clit and thrust into her. “Do you have any idea how much I have to hold back with everyone else? How much I have to keep this gift alone?” He bucked into her hard, letting her feel him bottom out before he pulled back out and slid in again. “Not this time. This time I will make sure you feel my love fully.” 

She thrashed and whimpered as he squeezed her clit then started to stroke it softly again, matching his pace as he moved in her. 

Everything felt like it was too much. Every nerve in her body was alight with sensation as he moved and manipulated her body. She was distantly aware as he pumped his cum into her again then continued to move. 

She felt like it would go on forever. This was her new existance. Feeling him move in and out of her so steadly. Feeling him stroke her swollen clit like it was an extension of himself. That was all she was now. An extension of him. 

Any time she thought she might black out or loose sight of herself, he would squeeze her clit and jolt her back into the present. 

Her body cycled up and down from pleasure to painful pleasure as she squeezed around him tightly. 

At last she felt him cum again and still. She felt his dick slowly soften and slide out. 

Pulling back, he watched as his cum gushed out of her still stretched open hole. 

He smiled and stepped away, leaving her limp and helpless in the chair. Looking over, she watched as he cleaned himself up. 

She slowly slid a hand down to her groin and felt the pool of cum between her legs. She slipped the clamps off her folds then slid the ring off her clit with a shiver and wince. 

Harrow looked her over. “I leave tomorrow for Egypt. You will take yourself to the town twice a day. Once to let them bask and enjoy your milk. You will compose yourself and return here to clean up. Later you will return to the town and let them feel your love. You will then return here and do as you wish. When I return, you will be filled with Ammit and you will learn to spread your love to the world.” 

She looked up at him, delerious and exhausted. “I can’t wait…” She smiled. “I want to spread my love…” She collapsed back. “And then you can fuck me every day…”

“I will fill you with the grace of Ammit until you burst.” Harrow laughed and slid a hand over her thigh, moving to collect his cum. He held it up for her and she slowly licked it from his hand, savoring the taste. 

He pulled her to her feet and guided her back across the house to the bathroom where he cleaned her up. 

He helped her to her room and she lay back on the bed. 

What had she done? She stared up at the ceiling after he left. She had let him fuck. Begged for it, even. She had renounced her love and past life just for what? A bit of pleasure? 

She reached down and slowly stroked her fingers over her clit, savoring the jolts of pleasure and endorphins that rushed through her system. “I’m sorry…” She whimpered and rolled over. “So sorry, Marc…” She rocked her hips against her hand till she fell asleep, dreaming of riding Harrow’s dick as he set the world on fire. 

--

A/N: Those that are still reading, what do you want to see next? Want one more? Happy with what we have here? Do you want a bad end with her on Harrow's big dick or you want Marc to save her and fuck her back into herself? You can anon me. I know you're all shy. ;) I also take requests!

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

I took the risk to read Blessing of Ammit part 1 (these kinks are not my cup of tea usually) because i love this rarepair and no one writes for them and let me tell you this is very much better than all my expectations! The writing is very talented and your Harrow is so in character i can hear his voice. On my way to the part 2! Also yep i’ll be waiting for the part 3 if you plan to write it, does the rescue mean we will see how moon boys would deal with this new Layla?

Hey! I'm so happy you took that chance to look at something you aren't normally into. Never know when you'll find something new and exciting! Hope you like part 2! Gets a little more cult-ish. After all, Harrow is a very powerful cult leader. He's charismatic and knows what people desire. Why use violence when he can kill you with kindness?

I do plan to do a part 3! Think they'll be able to deprogram the new Goddess of Ammit? What about all her new followers?

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Blessed by Ammit - Part 2

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London? Harrow takes Layla back to the village in the alps and shows her what it feels like to be worshiped.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, body modification (pumping), enlarged clit, anal fingering, overstimulation, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, object insertion, squirting, dubious consent due to brainwashing, milking machine, Brain washing.

Word count: 4,670 - Slippery

Pairings: Layla x Harrow

Part 1 here.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~

Layla floated in a void. Her memories had started to blur and any coherent thought of escape and normal life had been pushed to the back. 

Things she had done in that room in London. Things she would never have done before. Acts of vulgarity and erotic display… 

After her transformation into what Harrow called ‘his divine blessing’, she had been sedated and transported to the village in the alps. The sedation was for her own comfort as her state of being had been lost to her at the time. 

When she woke up, she had found herself naked in a room with a soft bed. There had been a brief moment when she had remembered everything and cried, curled up under the blankets so she wouldn’t have to look at what she had become. 

When the tears stopped, she explored her room. There was fresh fruit and water on the table for her. Starving, she devoured it eagerly then drank down the water. She had never felt so thirsty before and realized it was probably because of the amount of milk she was producing. Even now, standing still, she felt her breasts ache with pressure. 

She pulled a sheet off the bed and wrapped it around herself for any semblance of modesty she could find. 

When she heard a knock on her door, she grabbed a small bedside lamp and held it up like a weapon. She could still fight them and escape. 

Harrow walked in, his crunching shoes giving him away before she saw him. 

“Good morning, my beautiful creature.” He smiled. “Did you like the fruit?” 

She raised the lamp up and glared. “Don’t come near me.” 

He only held open his hands to show that he had no weapons except for his cane. 

She stared at the cane and remembered what she had done. The memory of how she had defiled herself willingly… 

She looked down at the mark of the scales that rested on her lower abdomen. 

He held up the cane. “Blessed by you. I can still smell you on it. I could let you borrow it again, if you like.” He sounded so soft and gentle, yet so condescending at the same time. 

She blushed deeply and looked away. “What do you want?” 

“I’m here to take care of you. The village was so pleased to hear that the gift from Ammit was here for them. They can’t wait to meet you.” He went to the window, giving her a wide berth as she still held up the lamp. 

“Do you see them? Waiting for you. Wanting to see your gifts. To taste your blessing…” He smiled as he pushed the curtain aside and waved. 

She slowly set the lamp down and went to the window, arms crossed over her breasts protectively. She looked out the window and saw a large crowd of people waiting. 

He grinned and opened the curtain further. “Wave to them. They want to bask in your glory. Would you deny them such a simple pleasure?” 

She had flashes of memory of the things she had done. Of how she had fucked the cane until she was too euphoric to know what was happening. How she had spread herself and let people watch her as she got herself off over and over. 

She shuddered and stepped back from the window. 

“Understandable. You are not ready yet. Not properly cleansed.” He walked back to the doorway and waited. “Surely you wouldn’t mind a bathroom break? Perhaps a nice bath?” 

She reluctantly followed him. She needed to know what was outside of the room, after all. 

They walked down a corridor with a plush carpet and fancy paintings and decorations. To her surprise there were no guards or servants anywhere that she could see. It gave her some hope of escape. 

Harrow opened a door and guided her inside to the largest and fanciest bathroom she had ever been inside. 

The walls were covered in a tile mosaic of beautiful farmlands and fields. The floor was warm and she suspected it was being heated from underneath. An open shower area was in one corner with the sort of showerhead that promised a powerful spray of water. A toilet was in one corner with a bidet, a large counter and mirror lined one wall with a sink, and the sink was lined with fancy hand soaps, toiletries, and makeup. 

In the center of the room was a large deep bathtub that was filled with steaming hot water and bubbles. 

“How about you start by relieving yourself.” He gestured to the toilet. “It was a long trip and you can’t be comfortable.” 

She did have to urinate now that he mentioned it. She suddenly realized how open the room was with no doors to separate out the areas. She looked at him for a moment then got the feeling that he had no intention of leaving. 

She definitely moved to the toilet and pulled up the sheets before taking a seat. She locked eye contact with him as she let go and urinated. 

His eyes stayed on hers, his smile never wavering. She felt a shiver run through her as he watched her. She pushed the bidet button and gasped as warm water splashed up across her. Her legs spread slightly and she felt her own fluids start to drip down. The forced air that tried to dry her stood no chance. 

She stood up and felt her fluids start to drip down her thighs heavily. “I’d like to clean up.” She looked at him nervously. 

“I imagine you would.” He went and stood next to the bath. “I’m here to assist you.” 

“I want to do it alone.” She glared. 

“I’m sorry.” And he did sound sorry. “But I must make sure you are properly cared for. It is my job to serve Ammit, afterall.” 

“Then I won’t do it.” She crossed her arms. 

He took a slow breath and walked over to her. “I must insist that you get clean.” He hooked his cane over her arm and she stared down at the crocodile head. “I would prefer that you do so willingly.” 

She swallowed then slowly moved to the bathtub. Letting her sheet fall away, she climbed into it slowly, giving herself time to get used to the hot water as she slowly sank down into it. 

Harrow moved to pull up a chair and sat behind her. He rolled up his sleeves and picked up a sponge. “Allow me.” He dipped the sponge in the water and started to gently scrub her back, working across her shoulders and the back of her neck then slowly circling dowards. 

Despite herself, it felt nice. She pulled her hair over a shoulder and closed her eyes, desperately trying to pretend that it was Marc cleaning her. His hands stroking over her arms and down her sides. 

He paused and she heard him moving. She glanced up to find him now sitting in front of her. He lifted her arms and moved the sponge slowly over her collarbone and down over her chest. 

Layla gasped as he focused on one breast at a time, lovingly cleaning and stroking every part of them. He spent a little extra time on her nipples, making her squirm as he ran his fingers over them gently, taking care not to squeeze or release her milk. 

When done there, he moved to her abdomen and lovingly cleaned the mark of the scales. 

She put a hand out and grabbed his wrist when he moved lower. “I can do the rest.” She looked up at him, pleading. 

“Layla.” He cooed softly. “I made a promise to you. I would take care of you.” 

He pulled his hand out of her grip and spread her legs. She felt the sponge rub over her outer lips then gasped as he parted her and gently cleaned the inner folds. She bit her lower lip as he spread her wide and made sure to cover every part of her most private bits. Her hips lifted as he gently circled the sponge over her clit then he moved to her thighs and worked his way down each leg, lifting them as he rubbed her calves. She slowly sat back and watched as he massaged her feet one at a time. 

It felt heavenly as his large fingers worked over any knotts he found, pressing and stroking slowly. 

When finished he gently maneuvered her till she was rolled over, stretched out in the tub. A gasp escaped her as he stroked along her buttocks then dipped the sponge down between the crack. 

“Ah… That’s good… You can stop now… You don’t need to clean there-Ah!” She felt a finger rub over her asshole slowly. The finger circled it, stroking over and over again. 

Her eyes closed and she gripped the sides of the tub as she lifted her hips. 

He smiled and leaned in to run a free hand over her hips. “Did you think Ammit would forget to bless any part of you? Her love knows no bounds.” 

His finger pushed and she gasped as it slid into her ass easily, igniting nerves that she didn’t even know she had. “Oh god!” 

He pushed it in fully and slowly pushed in a second finger, easily spreading and stretching her as he slid them in and out. 

“Nnh… What…What are you doing?” She whimpered and squirmed. 

“Making sure you are ready to be perfect.” He removed his fingers and smiled. 

She felt her muscles twitch as her asshole slowly closed again. Trembling, she sank down into the hot water fully, holding her breath as she struggled to process everything she was feeling. Fear, arousal, hate, need… 

She came up and took in a slow breath as she turned back around and looked up at Harrow. “What are you going to do to me? Why am I here?” 

He laughed and helped pull her to her feet. “I am going to show you what it means to be loved and worshiped. There is a whole village out there waiting for you. Just you. They will gaze on you with admiration and devotion. You will be a goddess to them. Then you will give them what they are waiting for.” He helped her out of the tub and took her to the shower so she could rinse off. 

“What are they waiting for?” She stepped under the falling water and let out a sigh as she felt everything start to wash away. 

“A show of trust and love.” He waited for her to turn off the water then handed her a large soft towel. 

She dried off and wrapped the towel around herself, happy to have any bit of modesty. “I don’t know what that means.” She glanced at him as he took her to the vanity. 

“You will.” He watched as she brushed her teeth then brushed her hair. She normally had a routine to keep her hair from frizzing and she was surprised to find he had familiar items out for her. Her favorite type of hair brush, defrizzing spray, and conditioner. 

When finished, he offered her a tray of makeup. 

“I don’t usually.” She blushed. 

“Natural beauty?” He smiled and stroked a hand down her back. “How refreshing. Your skin practically glows when you reach orgasm. Did you know that? The blush spreads from your cheeks and across your face. Your toes curl too. I loved watching how your body responded to such pleasure.” 

She shivered and looked away. “It wasn’t for you.” 

“Oh, I know.” He stroked the back of her neck gently. “It was for you.” 

Harrow picked up a jar of body lotion and handed it to her. “I insist.” 

She stared down at the jar and slowly started to work the lotion into her hands and up her arms. She bent over and massaged it into her legs slowly. 

Harrow gave her towel a tug and pulled it away. “Make sure to get it all. You wouldn’t want to get dry skin, would you?” 

She slowly worked the lotion over her stomach then up over her breasts. She shivered as she massaged her nipples slowly. Licking her lips she had to force herself to move on before she was lost in how good it felt. 

He stared at her expectantly and she hesitantly spread her legs and worked the lotion into her folds and across her clit. She breathed heavily as she felt how soft and velvety her clit was between her fingers. 

Harrow took back the jar, making her blink in awareness as she stopped and closed her legs again. 

He moved to open a drawer in the vanity and took out a box. He opened it and she gazed down at golden jewelry. 

She sat still as he slipped golden bracelets over her wrists, letting them clink together musically. He knelt down and slipped several over her ankles too, making sure she would announce herself when she walked, much like he did with the crunch of glass in his shoes. 

He slipped a large thick necklace over her head and secured it in place. It was a multi-strand chain that lay across her ample breast beautifully. 

He pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail and tied it back with a golden ribbon. “Beautiful. I think you are ready.” 

He gripped her arm gently and guided her to the door. Back out in the hall she again noticed the lack of people. She could fight him. She could even kill him now and no one would know. 

He looked at her as if sensing her thoughts. “I could cuff you and lead you out on a chain… But you aren’t an animal. If you put up any resistance I will have to punish you. You can either greet them as a goddess or as a cow. The choice is yours.” 

She glared and followed him as he guided her to the front door. Just as he reached for it she stopped, her nerves getting the best of her. “Please… Don’t do this. You don’t have to do this. Just lock me up somewhere. Anything…” 

He cupped her cheek gently. “Layla… You were made for this. Let the people enjoy what Ammit has given you.” 

He reached down and stroked over the scales on her abdomen. “Let us balance the world.” 

His finger dipped down and slid over her clit lightly before pulling away. 

She gasped, her lips parting softly. “Ah…” 

“Good… Show them love.” He opened the door and waved to the people there. “Praise Ammit!” 

They all sank to their knees, murmuring praises. 

Layla followed Harrow out, doing her best to keep her head held high as she was guided through the streets. 

She could feel them looking up at her as she passed them by. Her breasts swayed before her, her balance off as she felt the heavy jiggle with each step. Even walking and feeling her thighs squeeze together was stimulating to her as her clit came to full attention, jutting out from her folds. Her nipples twitched and she felt the painful strain building from too much milk. 

He guided her to the center of town where a strange device waited. 

It appeared to be half a stockade. The power half had a cushion on it and there were two bars on either side branching up with a handle. 

He pulled her up onto a small platform. “I am pleased to bring to you a gift from Ammit herself. The Divine Blessing. Those that are worthy may taste her milk. If your scales are balanced, you will feel her life giving love. Those that are truly blessed may even drink from her personally.” 

He smiled and guided her to the stockade. She leaned over the part with the cushion. Her face blushed deeply as her breasts hung down over the other side freely. Shifting, she felt them sway under her as she reached up and gripped the handles. 

Looking out at the crowd she trembled, not knowing what to expect. 

Harrow reached down and turned on a machine that made a steady whirring sound. 

Layla’s eyes widened as he held up two large milking pumps meant for a cow. “Oh god…” She wanted to pull away and run. 

He held them up to her nipples and she squealed as they were instantly sucked into the tubes, pulling and squeezing around them steadily. “Ah… Ah! Nn…No… Ahh!” She felt her milk let down and be pulled out of her in a rhythmic pump that alternated sucking on her nipples. 

The crowd cheered as her milk flowed freely down the tubes and was sent to be collected in a large container to the side. 

“Fantastic. I expect you’ll fill it in no time at all.” Harrow stroked her back gently. “Now for your show, my dear. Give them the love they are here for.” 

She was barely listening. The feel of the machine pulling and squeezing her large nipples was bliss, but the release of her milk and feeling it flow out of her so steadily was heaven. She arched her chest and squirmed enjoying the feel of the pull and sway of her heavy chest. She was already forgetting what it had felt like to be so small before. 

Harrow gently parted her legs, giving her a wider stance. She could already feel her slick wetness starting to build and drip under her heavily. 

She hardly noticed when something wet nudged between her butt cheeks until it rubbed over her asshole. 

She glanced back and found Harrow holding something large. 

Fear ran through her as she realized it was a large plug that was slicked up in lubricant. The base of it turned into a large crocodile tail shape that would hang down behind her to her knees. 

“Harrow…” She looked up at him desperately. 

He met her eyes and leaned in to stroke her backside with his free hand. “You’ll want to relax now.” 

He pushed and she screamed. Pressure moved her forward until she felt something give and there was a sharp pop then a steady stretch. More pressure then it stopped and she felt full as her ass clenched around the fat plug. She could feel the way it pushed into her and kept her open. Worse, she could feel the heavy weight of the tail hanging down and moving each time she jerked her hips. 

He gave it a pull to make sure it was secure then released it and let it swing down fully. 

Tears ran down her face as she adjusted to the stretch easier than she should have. Each swing of the tail under her made the plug shift and nudge over sensitive nerves. 

She started to pant, feeling overwhelmed as the milk was continuously pulled from her. She sensation of her own lubricant running down her thighs reminded her just how much she wanted to be filled. 

Glancing over at Harrow, she wondered what his next move was. To her surprise he simply stepped back and walked down the platform to the waiting crowd. 

She watched him walk through the crowd, greeting people and talking to them in such a friendly manner. Ignoring her. 

She whimpered and squirmed her hips, forcing the tail to sway behind her so she could feel that wonderful pull. She twitched her shoulders and moved to feel her breasts dangle under her with the strain of the milkers. 

Layla watched him walk up to someone that looked new. He held their hands and judged them, the scales coming to balance perfectly. 

She felt a heat in her groin and gasped as she felt the scales on her abdomen move. They balanced and a jolt of pleasure rushed through her. Her lubricant dripped down and spattered under her. 

Her eyes followed as Harrow moved to the next person, judging them. She could feel her heart pounding as she watched the scales move and she felt her own move with them. They balanced and she moaned loudly as she was jolted with more pleasure. 

Another person stepped up and Harrow judged them. Their scales tilted and she felt how uneven they fell as a searing heat radiated from her abdomen. Harrow shook his head in sorrow and looked up at her. “Not worthy.” He pushed a button on a remote just before he gripped their hands and the life was sucked from them. 

Layla felt the plug in her shift and expand out just before there was a buzz and a pulse of electricity raced through her. She cried out and bucked her hips as the person dropped dead and was carried away. 

Trembling, she licked her lips. “More.” She whispered. “Judge more…” She desperately wanted that jolt of pleasure again. He continued to move through the group, judging. Each success brought her closer and each failure sent her body jerking as Harrow sent shocks through her. 

It wasn’t long before she was moaning loudly, begging for more. Begging for the worthy ones. For those to be blessed by Ammit as she swayed her hips and let her breasts jiggle under her. 

As he judged the last one, another balanced scale, she reached orgasm hard and squirted, fluid rushing down her thighs heavily. Nearly losing her balance, Layla gripped the handles tightly as she fought her wobbly knees. 

She looked up with hazy eyes as Harrow approached her. “I am pleased by how many truly good people we have with us today! Ammit will now let us enjoy her blessings!” He took a cup to the collection container and opened a valve, letting the cup fill with milk. 

He held it up and took a sip. “Come!” He smiled. “Enjoy the rewards of our gift!” 

She shivered as people lined up to fill their cup. She could still feel the milk pump from her as the milk was drained from the container. Watching everyone drink, she shivered knowing that it was from her. 

She wondered if there was indeed something divine in her milk. Did Ammit add in something special? Would it make them stronger? Was the taste better? 

Once everyone had taken a cup, Harrow stood before Layla. “We thank you for helping in our judgment today. It’s your turn to be worshiped.” 

He held up a third milking suction device and smiled. 

She looked at it in confusion. “What are you going to do?” 

“Trust me.” He knelt under her. “Show us your beauty.” 

She felt a cold suck at her clit then a pull as the pump latched onto her clit fully. Her eyes widened as it hung under her a moment, swaying between her thighs. It then squeezed and pumped hard, pulling her clit in fully and stretching it to fill the chamber slowly. 

She screamed as her body was instantly forced into an orgasm. 

Harrow clamped some soft cuffs around her wrists to hold them in place. “You still have a container to fill.” He stroked her hair back and smiled. “Fill it with your pleasure. Fill it with Ammit’s love.” 

The pumps alternated one nipple, another nipple, both nipples, then her clit. 

She thrashed and groaned as everything swayed and pulled. Her clit was pulled again and she arched, thrusting her hips forward and causing the pump to jerk and pull harder. 

It wasn’t long before she was panting, tongue sliding out over her lower lips as she groaned and whined. Orgasms rippled through her one after another as she leaned into the cushion under her heavily. Her mind was going blank as she stared at Harrow. Drinking her milk. She could feel her tail swaying behind her. The scales balancing and judging on her midsection. The pull of her nipples and clit. 

“I can’t…” She moaned. “No more..No more…NNH” She came again, her body spasming out of her control. 

“You can.” Harrow whispered in her ear as he stroked her back. “Your followers expect it. Look how they adore you.” 

She gazed out at the crowd, panting and gasping as another orgasm ripped through her. Her body went slack, being supported by the restraints fully now. They watched her in wonder. Sipping her milk as she was pleasured. There would be more than enough milk. It still gushed from her. She could feed them for days. 

Her mind gave and she started to black out. 

A painful jolt from the tail brought her back and she screamed in frustration as even the bliss of unconsciousness was kept from her. 

Her hips rolled and she started to beg. “Stop! Stop! Please! Ahhh… Fuck! Fuck me! Fuck me!” 

At last Harrow turned off the machine and lifted her chin, forcing her to focus on him. “So beautiful. Ammit be praised. We will surely be blessed today.” 

She smiled deliriously and swayed her hips weakly. “Yes… So blessed…” 

She gasped as he gently released the suction pumps from her nipples then her clit. 

They were swollen and dark, her nipples still gently dripping milk. Her clit was puffed up and dark red, stretched and hyper sensitive. Each movement made her whimper as he unhooked her from the stand. Lastly he gently slipped the plug from her ass and set it aside. 

Scooping her up in his arms, she was thankful not to have to walk. He carried her back down the streets. She felt hands move over her body as he walked, touching her arms, legs, and chest as they reached out to feel any part of her divineness. 

Layla smiled and tried to look at the people as she passed them. “Blessed… Mnh… Blessed…” She spread her thighs and slid her own hands across her body, savoring the afterglow. 

Once back in the building, Harrow took her back to her room and laid her back on the bed. “You did wonderfully, Layla. Rest. Tomorrow we do it again.” 

She felt a distant fear in the back of her mind at those words but was too tired to care as she passed out. 

The next day was the same. She woke to find a hearty meal waiting for her. Once finished, she was taken by Harrow to the bath where he spent hours preparing her. Cleaning her, massaging her, stretching her, and making sure her body was properly tended to. 

She was again taken to the platform in the town center. This time she had more resistance as she fought with the memory of bliss and pain. She was locked in place and again the pumps were hooked to her already tender nipples. 

The tail plug was inserted and this time he attached the clit pump right away. 

Her screams filled the town as people were judged. Each successful judge brought moans and each failure brought shrieks. 

Those that were virtuous enjoyed her milk and watched as her body writhed and was forced into a seemingly endless cycle of climaxing. 

The days repeated. Each day was the same. She felt her body start to respond as Harrow walked into her room. She spread her legs eagerly in the bath as he cleaned her, feeling her folds and insides. 

The endless pumping was making her nipples even more sensitive, stretching them and making them jut out further like real teats. Her clit was always swollen now, stretched and fat. A light touch was enough to make her rock her hips and desperate to cum. 

Stepping on the platform her fluids gushed from her in anticipation. She encouraged the crowd to drink and be judged. She presented her ass to be filled and savored the sensation of it moving behind her. Even the failures brought her pleasure as she imagined Ammit devouring their impure souls. 

After each session she encouraged them to touch her, feeling their hands seeking her blessing. So this was what it was to be loved…to be worshiped. 

A/N: Seems there may be some interest in this after all. Expect a part three.

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Do you cross-post your works on ao3? I can’t find them there

I currently don't. I might look into doing it if people are interested. I think I've got like, two solid readers here. (Hey loves. Thanks for your support!)

Problem is, this is a side blog and I want to keep the kink apart from the serious so I need to look into making a new account there. I can do it though. Just gotta give me a bit while I wait for jumping through the AO3 wait period. ;)

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Cat dad Jake 🥰

Being so busy and queue so full, it took a while to finally post this! Thank you for letting me draw your fanon cats with him ❤

La Gatita, orange tabby: @tiptapricot Ixchel, white longhair: @marisferasiop Luna, black: @lcvenderblues White and grey patches: @frisbs

Mines are: Viejita/Cleo, sphynx cat Solovino, calico cat

and added my rl cat Haru (black and white one), not that I'm going to draw her with Jake, but I wanted to include her because I love her so much 🥰

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Blessed by Ammit

Summary: What if Harrow captured Layla instead of her rescuing Steven in London? Harrow finds a way to make use of her, even if her scales don't balance. After all, what's better than blessed milk?

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Corruption, lactation, breast growth/expansion, breast feeding, tied up, over-stimulation, orgasm denial/withheld, masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, object insertion, squirting, dubious consent due to brainwashing.

Word count: 3,727 - A quicky

Pairings: Layla x Harrow

~*~*~*~**~*~~*

“I wonder if your scales balance.” Harrow circled Layla slowly, his cane swinging at his side. “If they don’t, you would have to be culled from the herd like a sick lamb.” 

She watched him angrily. She should have seen this coming. She had been blindsided after they had taken Steven away. She thought she could fight her way out but had been taken down swiftly by their sheer masses. 

Now she was tied to a chair surrounded by Harrow’s followers. 

“But then your use would be done.” Harrow stood behind her. “You would not be able to tell us where the scarab is. Where your husband is. What your plans are.” He touches her hair, making her shudder and flinch away. 

“I’m not telling you anything.” She growled out. “If you’re going to kill me, then just get it over with.” 

She knew what sort of man Harrow was and if he wanted to kill her, she’d be dead in the blink of an eye. At least it would be quick. 

He walked around her again and looked at her for a moment. “In some cases, death solves nothing.” 

He held up his cane, the crocodile head hovering before her as if judging her. “Perhaps we can find a more fitting use for you.” 

His eyes moved over her, taking her in. She glared up at him then eventually looked away. His eyes were so calculating and cold. It felt like he could see through her. 

“Humans are flawed.” He pushed the cane forward and she felt the cold metal almost tenderly caress her cheek. “They can think and make choices for themselves. That’s what gets them into trouble, you see. Their souls are corrupted by the choices they are given. Animals are inherently good. They have purpose. They have use.” 

The cold metal slid down her neck and under her chin, lifting her head up so he could look at her fully. He smiled and leaned in, his voice a soft rasp. “I can give you purpose. Perhaps that is how you can be saved. I can take away your choice and you can be remade to serve us.” 

“I will never serve you. You’re insane if you think I’ll ever do anything to help your cause.” She jerked her head away from the cane. 

He laughed. “She has spirit!” He turned to his followers. “We have been so lucky here. Each of us bringing something special to our little haven here. We grow our own fruits and vegetables. We tend to our animals and they supply us with wool to make blankets and clothes.” 

He smiled back at Layla. “You see, we’re mostly vegetarian here. A few still eat meat and eggs, but for the most part, we try not to take from animals. A dead animal has purpose once. Such a waste.” 

She glanced around at his followers who all nodded, latching onto his every word. It was eerie to see how eagerly they agreed with him. How far they would go for him. 

“A cow could continue to provide milk to feed us for years. If you can withstand the idea that the cow must go through so much to continue to produce milk. Then the offspring suffer… Not to mention the resources that are needed to go into keeping a cow. Can one cow feed a village? Hardly.” He looked down, shaking his head. This was obviously something he had gone over before when building his utopia town in the Alps. “But I wonder… We are humans, after all. We were not meant to survive off the milk of another species. We are given our first meals from our mothers.” 

Turning back to his followers he lifted his cane up for them to see. “I will save this poor lost soul today! I will give her purpose! She will provide for us and we will be blessed by Ammit again!” 

The eyes of the crocodile started to glow a dark purple as he slowly lowered the cane towards Layla. He gave her a soft smile that made her skin crawl. “May Ammit bless you well.” 

He chanted and the purple glow spilled from the crocodile’s eyes to envelop her. She felt her body heat up and terror filled her. Was this it? Had he decided to kill her after all? Or worse, did he somehow have the ability to hypnotize her into a mindless follower? Was that how he had such a large group? 

The heat built inside her and she let out a scream as she thought she might burn up to cinders. 

It was over just like that. The light faded and Harrow lowered his cane. 

Layla was breathing hard as the heat slowly faded. “What the hell was that?” She blinked away tears, not wanting to let him see any signs of weakness. She refused to let him think he was getting to her. 

He continued to stare at her, smiling. “Letting you have but a taste of the godly powers Ammit can provide for us.” 

She was about to argue more when she felt a strange tingling in her chest. Her nipples hardened and pushed against her bra firmly. The tingling spread and she flushed as she squirmed, pulling on her restraints. Her arms tied behind her back to the chair, she couldn’t even hunch her shoulders forward. 

The tingling started to prickle and she gasped as she felt her nipples push harder against the thin fabric. She felt harder than they had ever been in her life. Looking down, she could see the shape pushing against her shirt and becoming more and more prominent 

Layla watched in confusion as her shirt started to lift outward then her bra started to cut into her as it suddenly felt too tight. “What…What’s happening?” Her voice trembled in fear. “What did you do to me?” 

There was a sudden surge of heat and she cried out as her chest pushed forward, filling her shirt out. Realization hit her then that her breasts were growing. 

Panic hit her and she flailed in her chair, struggling to get free as she felt her shirt start to tighten slowly. “Stop! Make it stop!” 

Harrow held out a hand to one of his guards. A large knife was handed over and Harrow knelt down before her. “Let me help you, my dear.”

She held her breath as he slipped the knife under her shirt. He held eye contact with her as he started to slice, slowly splitting her shirt up the middle. The knife changed positions and cut away at her sleeves till he could pull her shirt off her fully. 

She swallowed hard and trembled as she felt the heat surge again and her breasts strained at her small bra heavily. 

“Don’t…” She pleaded softly. “Please don’t…” 

The knife moved quickly and her bra was sliced down the middle, letting her breasts spill free. 

She let out a sigh of relief then whimpered as the crowd let out a murmur of excitement. 

Harrow stayed before her, watching as her chest continued to swell. “Don’t you think this is an improvement? Haven’t you always wanted to be useful?” 

She shook her head, fighting back tears as she watched her modest bust become obscene. To make matters worse, her nipples were jutting out at full attention. 

Her areola darkened and puffed up slightly. She watched as her nipples suddenly fattened and started to grow out till they looked like little teats. 

Her chest was heavy. She could feel the weight as her breasts filled out and swayed with each jostle of her body. She shook her shoulders and shuddered as she felt them jiggle. Another heat wave and they finally settled, enormous on her small frame. She felt a building pressure and pain in her breasts like they might burst any moment. 

Harrow reached up and gently cupped a breast in his hands. “Magnificent.” He gently massaged then squeezed, following his fingers towards her nipple till he was pinching and pulling it. 

White flashed before her eyes as the pinching and painful pressure started to build. “NNNh!” She arched back and thrashed, only making him pull and pinch harder. 

Pain turned to pleasure and she felt something give. A hot stream of milk sprayed from her nipple, soaking his hand. 

Sobbing, she sank forward as far as her restraints would allow. Milk dribbled from both nipples heavily, slowly soaking her lap. 

Harrow lifted his hand and tasted the milk there. “Divine. Truely, we are blessed!” He stood, lifting his milk covered hand in a sort of victory as the crowd cheered. 

“Chin up, beautiful. You have been gifted a purpose. I’ll send for the milkers tonight. Tomorrow begins your new life as our new cow. We will tend to your every need and you only need provide us with your nurturing milk.” Harrow stroked a hand through her hair gently. 

“You can’t keep me here.” She glared up at him. “You can’t just hold me prisoner!” 

“Don’t worry. By tonight, you will be begging us to milk you.” He smirked. Leaning down he lifted a breast and wrapped his lips around a nipple, giving a suck. 

She let out a gasping moan as she felt the milk pull from her. His tongue licked over her fat nipple and he gently worked her over, drinking with each spurt till the milk started to flow freely. 

She arched her chest up and threw her head back, moaning as he suckled from her. Any cries for him to stop were mixed in with moans and whimpers. She could feel her groin heat up and was suddenly aware that it was wet with more than just her spilt milk. 

He pulled back, letting her breast fall back down, dripping heavily. 

Layla flushed, panting heavily. She squirmed as she felt her groin heat up. “Ah… Something…Something’s wrong…” She gasped and tried to thrash her legs. 

Harrow looked at her for a moment then reached down to undo her pants. Terror passed over then was replaced by the burning pain. “Ah! Oh… S…Something’s wrong!” 

He undid her pants swiftly and pulled them down over her hips roughly, letting them fall to her ankles. He pulled out the knife and cut them away, leaving her fully naked. 

The heat in her groin built then faded. She was distantly aware of Harrow’s hands on her knees, slowly spreading her legs to fully expose her. 

He let out a soft exhale and whispered a praise to Ammit. The look on his face only visible to her, she saw an unmistakable expression of desire sweet over him before he swept it away back to his cold hard gaze. 

She squirmed in her seat, vaguely aware of how wet the chair suddenly was. She could feel fluid smeared over her thighs and pooling under her. 

It took her a moment to realize it was her own lubricant flowing out of her. She had always been self conscious about how wet she could become when aroused. Marc used to enjoy teasing her till she was soaked through her pants fully. But this… This was far more than she had ever been before. 

“A mirror.” He glanced back at the group. “I want her to see how blessed she has been.” 

There was some murmuring and shuffling before someone handed over a compact mirror. 

He flipped it open and held it up so she could see her own groin. 

He kept her legs spread, the smile on his face for her eyes only. 

Swallowing she looked at the mirror, distantly aware of how erotic this was as she was forced to look at her own wetness. 

The folds were swollen, glistening and pink. She could both feel and see how her muscles contracted over and over in need, sending a ripple through the inner part of her vulva. Her normally small and mostly hidden clit was now swollen, pushing past the protective hood and standing at full attention over her slit. A fat nub waiting for attention. 

She let out a strangled sound and tried to close her legs quickly. 

Harrow held her firmly in place as he adjusted the ropes on her legs to keep her spread wide. “I think everyone should gaze on Ammit’s work, don’t you?” 

He smirked and stood back, letting everyone gaze at her. “Come.” He gestured towards her. “I encourage everyone to taste the milk we have been blessed with. Everyone who desires so may have a sip. I expect her to produce enough that once collected we can all enjoy a full glass.” 

Layla’s eyes widened as the crowd moved forward. The first person stepped forward, an older man with gray hair. He leaned in and wrapped his lips tentatively around a nipple. It was all she could do to stop from moaning as he sucked a few swallows from her. 

He looked up at her, wiping his lips. “You will serve us well. Delicious.” 

Tears ran down her face as the next came forward, one on each teat sucking out her milk. Some leaned in and looked at her puffy groin and clit with curiosity. She shivered each time a new set of lips touched her nipples, making her fluids gush from her heavier. 

In no time at all she was openly moaning and whimpering. One person reached down as if to touch her groin and was stopped when the cane came down, blocking her from them. 

“This is her gift. We must not defile such a gift from Ammit. It could unbalance your scales.” He let the cold metal of his cane lightly touch her outer lips and she gasped, jerking her hips just barely before she got control of herself again. 

She looked up at Harrow in surprise as he protected her from their touch. At the same time, she felt him shift the cane just a little and a sharp edge ran over her clit before pulling away. 

She groaned and arched her hips up as a burst of pleasure overrode all her higher thoughts and functions. Lips found her nipples again and she needed more. Realization that she was riding on the edge of an orgasm hit her and she rocked her hips pitifully in the chair. 

Layla looked at Harrow, panting and practically drooling in need. “Please… I can’t… I can’t!” She thrashed and felt her milk spurt from her nipples with her effort. 

“My darling, the day is just getting started and there are many mouths to feed.” He leaned on his cane and smiled, watching as each member of his community drank from her, leaving her more and more desperate. 

By the time everyone had taken a drink from her, she was slumped in the chair as far as her restraints would let her, whimpering mindlessly and rocking her hips in an effort to rub against anything. 

Aware that no one was pulling her nipples and swallowing down her milk, she gave a hazy look around the room. She didn’t know how long all of this had taken but the crowd was bigger than when it had all started. They all watched her, waiting. 

She looked over at Harrow, trembling. “Let me go… Just let me go…” 

He looked at her seriously, his eyes piercing into her soul. “Choice is our downfall… But I must give you one last choice before you are freed from the burden of your scales.” 

He knelt between her legs and rested the cane on the chair between her thighs, Ammit’s teeth inches from her quivering folds. 

She looked down at him, eyes wide and squirmed, trying not to imagine how good it would feel to just be touched… Just a little… 

“Ammit has offered you pleasure beyond any you have ever felt before. She knows how fragile the sinner’s mind can be. Give in and be absolved. Take this pleasure and become her servant. I will make you into our holy blessing. You will know only bliss.” He reached up and pinched a nipple, pulling it till milk sprayed out heavily. “All who come before me and the scales will be rewarded with a drink from your divine teat.” 

Layla gasped and trembled. “Ah… Please… Please…” She squirmed her hips pitifully. 

He smirked. “Let me hear you say it. Tell me what you want.” 

She glared at him and looked away. “No.” 

He laughed. “Such spirit. I knew you would not be so easily motivated.” 

He leaned up to whisper so softly into her ear. “Are you afraid? I promise you will have nothing to fear. I will never let anyone touch you. Your breasts belong to us all, true… But this…” He let a hand slide down her stomach to rest just above her clit, letting her feel the rough calluses and strong fingers there. “This is yours to do with as you please. Perhaps… Perhaps you need more motivation? More proof that Ammit has chosen you to be our proof of love?” 

His fingers stroked her lower abdomen gently. She could only take shuddering breaths as she held still for him. It was all she could do to fight the desire to arch into him. 

He nudged the came closer and whispered a soft prayer. The eyes of Ammit glowered a soft purple that spread out to her groin. She felt a pulsing power push against her folds, stroking and spreading her gently. She spread her thighs further, gasping as she took in the power pushing against her there. It moved to her clit and she cried out as she rocked her hips. Just before she thought she might finally be pushed over the edge it stopped. 

A strangled groan of protest left her and she sat back, panting. 

She felt her groin pulsing in need, the muscles inside trembling with the urge to be spread open and filled. Everything felt far too sensitive. The very idea of someone spreading open her folds made her gasp and arch her hips. 

Her clit was so hard it was throbbing in pain, desperate to be touched. Each pulse of her heart made her clit twitch as it started to swell further, pushing out like a thumb from her folds. 

Harrow leaned back down and blew across her slit and clit slowly. 

It was enough to make her let out a frustrated scream as she bucked against the air. “Oh… Oh god! Please! I need it! I can’t I can’t I can’t!” She babbled and felt milk dripping down her nipples and torso. 

“You know what you must do.” Harrow looked up at her. 

“Yes!” She sobbed. “Touch me! I want you to touch me! Make me cum!” 

He turned the cane upside down and pushed it forward and she felt the cold snout of Ammit press between her folds and slowly up into her as far as the handle would allow till the staff was rubbing against her clit. 

She could feel her muscles clamping down around the crocodile head tightly and trying to pull it in further. Her hips started to rock and her eyes rolled back as she felt a flash of pure pleasure. 

There was a snap and she felt her hands fall free as Harrow cut through the ropes, fully releasing her. 

She gripped the cane and pulled it closer, pushing the snout further inside and humping against the handle desperately. 

Her body was wracked by pleasure as her first orgasm rode over her, drawing out moans and gasps. Still her hips rocked against the cane. “Yes… Oh god…” She looked up at Harrow. He was watching her with a pleased smile, holding the cane still for her, letting her rut into it fully. 

She glanced around and whimpered as strangers watched her get off. It was too much. She quickly climaxed again, moving her hands up to massage her breasts to draw out the pleasure. 

Somewhere in the back of her mind she was protesting. She should be up and running. This was her chance to take the staff and run. To get away and take his power away. 

She dropped a hand do her folds and spread them, lifting her hips up to give the audience a better look as she rocked on the staff. Her other hand found her clit and slowly stroked it, rolling it under her thumb and stroking the new length desperately. 

She gave a breathless gasp as she squirted, her juices dripping out of the chair and down her legs. 

It was too much and still she needed more. Still she was on fire. 

She groaned and licked the staff, rocking it in and out of her needily as she changed the angle till she felt that wonderful pointed snout push into a spot that sent her over the edge again. She could almost feel the crocodile moving on its own. As if the mouth inside was opening and drinking her on, licking her flesh and coaxing her on. 

There was a flash of purple as she rode out the orgasm, trembling and clenching around the handle tightly. She let out a final cry then collapsed back, her body spasming as it rode out the pleasure. 

Harrow took the cane back, slowly pulling it out of her. He looked at the fluids as they dripped from the metal heavily. “So blessed…” He licked the fluids from the handle slowly, savoring the taste.

He slid a hand across her lower abdomen and laughed. “Chosen by Ammit. Bathed in milk and cleansed.” He stepped back to let the crowd gaze at her. “Her scales are balanced!” 

A dark mark slowly formed across her lower abdomen till it took the form of scales, much like the tattoo on his arm. The scales moved then at last settled into perfect balance as milk dripped down across her. 

Her pleasure-addled mind was adrift as she reached down and spread her labia open, letting everyone see her clenching hole. “Ah… drink from me… Let me bless you…” She lifted a breast and squeezed a nipple, letting milk flow. “Ammit blesses you…” 

Harrow smiled and stroked her hair. She would make a fine servant of Ammit. He couldn’t wait to take her to the village where her new followers could be blessed. 

---

A/N: I know I don't have a lot of readers, but if you liked this, please let me know. I have ideas for a part two. Maybe even a part three where she is rescued. Anyone interested?

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

#steven being a cutie (▰˘◡˘▰)

[satisfiedmoonwatcher]

Perceived in French

Summary: Sure gets lonely being a mercenary. Especially when no one knows you exist. But someone has noticed. And that someone has been dreaming about getting close to that body for years. Could there be more there than midnight meetups?

Mild PWP.

Warnings: 18+. Contains: Male x male. Oral, rim job, hand jobs, fingering, thigh fucking, anal, swallowing, throat fucking, cum shot, mild somnophilia (sleep grinding), cuddling.

Some depictions of violence and blood (fighting). Minor talk of drugs, alcohol and self harm. Lots of bad language and swears. Gets a little gritty. (These boys are mercs for crying out loud.)

Word count: 8,777 - Rub one off.

Pairings: Jake Lockley x Jean-Paul DuChamp (Frenchie).

MCU/Comics. Chose your fantasy.

~*~*~**~*~*~*~**~*~**~*~*

Marc always forgot how dark it got out in the desert. Far away from any cities or major towns. There was nothing to see but the silhouette of the sand dunes on the horizon. 

Now and then movement would catch his eye, reminding him that the desert was not a wasteland of nothing. There were birds, insects, lizards, foxes, and various other things looking to hunt away from the heat of the day. 

Behind him in the distance he knew his team was sitting around the fire by their tents and laughing about things that didn’t matter. If he was back there, perhaps he would laugh too. Perhaps he would feel included. 

But it was Thursday and he had watch duty. They didn’t really have anything in particular to watch for. It just meant that directly after a mission, there was a higher chance of someone following them back to base camp with an idea of revenge or taking any spoils. 

So here Marc sat, on the hood of his jeep in the cold and in the dark, looking out into the desert at nothing. 

Admittedly today was probably not a good day for him to be on watch. He had been feeling tired and strange all day. 

It had started in the early morning when they raided a camp set up by some people who may or may not have been raiding local villages. They never looked into the claims. All they knew was that the money spoke louder than any claims to the contrary. 

They stormed the camp. He took a misstep and a bullet grazed his arm, leaving a bloody gash for him to clean up later. It had rattled him. If he hadn’t of tripped the bullet would have gone right through his head. 

He still wasn’t sure what he had tripped over. It was like his leg had just decided to stop working. 

Marc distantly heard his radio crackle. Someone was talking back at camp. It didn’t sound important and he didn’t bother to get up and check it. If it was urgent then they would call him. 

His radio crackled again and he stared up into the star filled sky. It was so empty out there. So big. So alone. 

He felt his eyelids droop and his body sink down. 

“OYE!” Someone was suddenly at his side yelling. 

He felt his body jerk in alarm and-

“Hey hey hey!” Jean-Paul lay pinned on the ground, hands up in surrender with a large knife held to his throat. 

Jake blinked and stared down at the man he was straddling. “Idiota.” He slowly withdrew the knife and slipped it back into the holder at his side. 

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Jean-Paul smiled up at him. “Tried to radio you but you didn’t pick up. Thought I better make sure you aren't dead out here.” 

Jake looked up and around as if just now noticing it was dark. “What time is it?” He sighed and rubbed his temples, fighting off a headache. The act made him feel the ache in his shoulder where the bullet had grazed earlier. “Please tell me this has been properly taken care of.” 

“Well it’s fuck-o-clock is as much as I know.” Jean-Paul shifted under Jake and grinned. He had been around Marc long enough to know when the man he was talking to was not Marc. Marc was a very secretive and private man who never talked about his past. 

This was not abnormal when it came to fellow mercenaries. You either got the guys that wouldn’t shut up about their dark and troubled pasts, or the guys that barely strung two sentences together. 

After so many years of working together and trusting one another, Jean-Paul had started to notice what he called ‘the other’. He came out in stressful situations, in dangerous situations, or when he felt Marc was taking bad risks. 

Usually ‘the other’ was not around for long. He would handle the situation and Marc would blink back in, quite literally, and be none-the-wiser. He suspected that Marc was not fully aware of ‘the other’ but that Marc was hiding some form of mental problem that possibly explained it. 

This was the first time Jean-Paul had actually gotten an up close and personal look at the other man. A very up close look. He flushed deeply and shifted under him. 

Jake looked down, suddenly aware of sitting on top of someone. He blinked in confusion for a moment but didn’t move. “Lo siento. Sorry. Just… Give me a moment.” He closed his eyes tightly and appeared to be struggling with something internally. 

“Are you leaving so soon?” Jean-Paul reached up and lightly touched the injured shoulder. “Let me take a look at that. You know Marc won’t do shit to tend to it.” 

Jake blinked and looked down at him in surprise. “Sure.” He shifted and slowly climbed off him, kneeling in the sand. 

Jean-Paul sat up and brushed himself off. “Fucking desert. I miss South America. Never thought I’d be missing that humid jungle, huh?” 

“Better food there.” Jake got up and went to his jeep. He started to peel the layers off, tossing his scarf, jacket, and hat into the passenger seat. He pulled his shirt off and set it aside while looking at his arm. 

Jean-Paul stared. He had always admired Marc’s body. The lean build, the muscles defined so nicely on his arms. His pecks that made Jean-Paul wonder if he didn’t have mommy issues with how badly he wanted to squeeze them. 

What caught him off guard was how differently this person seemed to carry himself. Marc was so compact and tight. He was a bundle of tension that took up a space of his own and radiated deep ‘don’t touch me’ vibes. 

This man let those muscles stretch as he slowly rolled his shoulder out, testing the tension. He stood up tall and almost seemed to lengthen the body. He moved with a grace and confidence that Marc lacked. 

The vibes were still incredibly deadly and if what Jean-Paul had seen on the battlefield was right, incredibly skilled in more than a few ways in causing death. Yet there was a loneliness there. 

“It looks like it isn’t deep.” Jake glanced back at him and raised an eyebrow. “Por favor.” He held up the medical kit and a roll of bandages. 

Jean-Paul felt his knees go weak as that look and that phrase bounced around in his head. Por favor… 

He licked his lips, suddenly very aware of how dry it was there. “Yeah.” He moved to him and took the kit. “You uh.. Saved his ass back there. Good move.” He carefully applied some antibiotic ointment to the gash and some gauze before he started to wrap it. 

Jake only nodded, watching him intently. There was an unspoken question there that was weighing heavily between them. 

“You don’t work this closely with a man for this long without noticing the little things. If you miss these things, you can wind up dead, no? So I notice when Marc is not Marc. At first I thought it was a coping thing. I’ve seen a few of those. Go somewhere else so you don’t have to remember the violence. But this is different. I don’t care what this is. I don’t need you to explain it to me. Marc seems to not want to talk about whatever this is… But I hope you know that I see you and you are welcome in my books.” Jean-Paul taped off the bandage then patted it gently into place. He looked up at Jake then ghosted a soft kiss over the wound. “For luck.” 

Jake glanced down at the bandage then looked back up into Jean-Paul’s eyes. “I notice the little things too.” 

Jean-Paul kept waiting for him to look away. To say something else. To push him away or to get dressed in a hurry. All things he had seen before when he got too close. But this man stared into his soul and didn’t flinch. 

“I forget how cold it is in the desert at night.” Jake at last looked away, breathing out slowly. “I don’t think anyone is coming. Not from this direction anyway. We would have seen movement on the dunes by now if they were.” 

“Uh huh.” Jean-Paul shook his head and glanced around, anywhere but at the man before him. “Yeah. Do you want to head back to the camp?” 

Jake opened the back of the jeep and climbed in, stretching out across the seats. “I think I’ll be fine out here. I prefer the privacy one gets out here.” 

Jean-Paul swallowed hard as Jake stared at him from the jeep, a small grin on his face. “I can… I can offer some company. If you like.” He was suddenly nervous. He felt like a boy again back in school when he first looked up in the locker room and realized that perhaps his desires lay here and not in the locker across the hall with the pretty ladies. 

Jake’s smirk widened and he slid a leg over, opening up a seat. 

Jean-Paul moved so fast that he nearly fell out of the jeep on the first attempt to get in. Once inside, he shut the door and sat back in the seat. The situation got to him and he started to laugh. 

“Christ.” He put his face in his hands and felt like crying. “Look at me. So desperate for anything. I follow this man around like a dog, hoping he will notice me. Hoping this Spector sees me as a comrade he can trust. A friend. Maybe more. Now here I am with hopes so high and for what?” He muttered to himself in French, feeling miserable and sorry for himself. “I am sorry, my friend. I don’t even know your name.” 

He moved as if to get out of the jeep and a hand caught his elbow. “I see you, Jean-Paul DuChamp.” There was a tug and Jean-Paul was spun around slightly. Lips found his and a hand snaked up into his hair, pulling him closer as the lips explored and a tongue pressed for access. 

The taste of old cigarette, stale coffee, and mint gum came to him. His hands explored up and down the bare back, tracing the muscles and feeling how they moved and flexed with each shift of positions. 

Jake moved and straddled his waist pushing them back into the seat further and making the jeep creak under them. 

Jean-Paul pulled back, catching his breath as he gazed up at the man on him. His heart pounded as this man stared back at him with such intensity and focus. This was not a man used to doing things half-assed. 

“Wait… Mon ami…” He was flushed and glad it was too dark for this man to see the redness that was surely spreading across his face. “You are not Marc. How can I have this body if I don’t even know who is inside?” He reached up and hesitantly slid a hand across the bare chest before him. 

It was everything he thought it would be. Firm and soft all at once as he traced a peck and ghosted a thumb over a pert nipple. 

Jake closed his eyes and parted his lips, letting out a soft shuddering sigh that made Jean-Pau deeply regret stopping. 

Jake arched his back and pulled Jean-Paul’s head in, letting it rest against his chest. “Amigo… You can call me Jake. If you breathe a word of me to Marc then you will never see us again. Right now, this body is mine to do with as I please and what I please is you.” 

Jake shifted and Jean-Paul felt something large and firm press to his stomach. Glancing down he realized it was Jake’s erection straining against the tight jeans that Marc loved to wear. 

A string of french dirty enough to make a saint weep left his mouth as he buried his face back into the chest until his chapped lips found a nipple and sucked. 

The sounds Jake made with each suck caused his own erection to grow and twitch in desperate need. It had been far too long traveling in such tight company. Sweet release only came in wet dreams and hurried sessions out behind the hole in the ground they called a shitter. 

This was hardly a romantic setting or ideal ‘bed’ to maneuver around on, but the sound of a zipper being undone was an angelic chorus in itself. 

Jake shifted and groaned in relief as he freed his dick. “Mierde. Marc needs to stop wearing such tight pants… Ah…” He shifted again and Jean-Paul felt the weight of his dick against his stomach. 

“Oh sweet angels in heaven.” He looked down and stared at the pulsing monster between them. “Jake…” He tried the name softly. “I am going to worship this body now and you can believe that I will never breathe a word of this to Marc in my life… this has got to be a dream.” 

He didn’t wait for Jake to respond. Cursing the confines of the jeep, he shoved Jake back into the seats and sank down between his legs. He pulled till the jeans and boxers were down fully then struggled till they were off and clear, tossed aside carelessly. He took a moment to admire the naked adonis before him. 

“Where to start…” Jean-Paul laughed breathily. 

Jake looked up at him with that same knowing grin as before. It occurred to him that perhaps Jake had been watching him all these years. Somewhere behind Marc’s eyes this man before him had been watching him and waiting. 

Jake reached down and gripped his dick, giving it a few strokes for good measure and arching his hips up. “Not exactly swimming in the lube here or condoms. I think our options are a little limited.” 

Jean-Paul gave a breathy laugh and shivered. “There is no way in hell I’m taking that up my ass without some vigorous stretching first.” He reached out and dared to slide his fingers across the tip, making Jake hiss and jerk his hips. 

Jean-Paul flushed and sank down, daring to brush his lips where his fingers had just been. He was rewarded with another breathy gasp and twitch of the hips. He exhaled across the tip and slowly slid his tongue around the head before wrapping his lips around and giving a hard suck. 

Hands slid through his hair and gripped, urging him on, then loosened and stroked gently, trembling in need. The spanish that followed as Jean-Paul sank lower and pushed to take his whole dick in was enough to make him groan around the girth pushing into his throat. 

He bobbed, slowly working his tongue down the underside of the length and daring to take him in up to the base then pulling back out to the tip again. A hand moved up and cupped Jake’s balls, slowly rolling them and massaging them with each stroke of his lips. His other hand slid down to his own groin and fumbled with the zipper and button. 

“Ah… Corazon.” Jake groaned and pulled him off after a moment. “Strip. I want you on your hands and knees.” 

Jean-Paul never stripped so fast in his life, only slowing down as he sat back and struggled to get his shoes off so his pants could follow. 

Jake watched him like a cat, waiting patiently and looking over every part of him. He waited as Jean-Paul rolled over to his hands and knees, looking down at his own erection that was already wet with pre-cum across the tip. 

“Press your thighs together.” Jake moved behind him, hunching down to avoid hitting the ceiling in the small space. He leaned in and whispered in his ear. “I want to fuck you someday, but this will have to do for now.” 

Jean-Paul shivered and squeezed his thighs together as tightly as he could. He felt the push and watched as Jake’s dick slipped between his thighs to nudge and slide against his balls. “Oh god.” Was all he could say as he felt Jake’s hips smack into his backside. 

He could imagine that dick pushing into him, stretching him open further than he’d ever gone before. The pain and then the pleasure of being filled. Of how it would have found his prostate so easily and just about destroyed him. 

Jake reached down and slowly wrapped his fingers around Jean-Paul’s dick and started to stroke, matching the pace of his own thrusts that moved them forward roughly. 

He knew right away he wouldn’t last long. The jeep rocked with each forceful shove forward, making Jean-Paul groan as he too bucked into the hand gripping him. 

He came hard, arching back into Jake and letting out a string of curses in any language he knew. 

Jake gripped his hip tightly and bucked hard, shooting his load down the front of Jean-Paul heavily. 

Jean-Paul half collapsed, burying his face in his arms, panting as he felt Jake lay across his back fully. He felt the thick cock slip from between his thighs and Jake slowly pull away. 

“Fuck.” Jean-Paul rolled over and slowly sat up in the seat. “Jake… Please tell me this was not a one off. I don’t think I can stand knowing I could never touch you again.” 

Jake sat back in the seat next to him. He looked Jean-Paul over and moved to grab a stash of tissues from behind the seat, holding them out to let him clean up. 

It was easy to see that Jake was thinking. He looked like he was always thinking and analyzing everything. 

At last Jake started to pull his clothes on. “If we meet again. It might be nice to… talk.” 

“If we meet again?” Jean-Paul sighed and cleaned up then moved to get dressed. “I know a dismissal when I hear one.” 

Jake reached out and grabbed his arm. “Amigo. I do not take time from Marc. Marc has enough trouble with… Other things. When I am here, I am here. If we are together and not fighting for our lives… Perhaps someone else saying my name for a change might be nice.” 

Jean-Paul smiled. “I can live with that. I hope we meet many times.” He grinned and leaned in to steal a kiss before slipping out of the jeep. “Perhaps Marc will come around too.” 

Jake frowned. “Doubtful. He is…” He didn’t want to say it.

“An idiot.” Jean-Paul sighed deeply. “I know. And I am a hopeless romantic who is willing to wait forever for what will never be.” 

Jake shrugged and grinned, moving shut the door. “Good night, Jean-Paul.” 

“Good night, Jake.” Jean-Paul watched as Jake’s body flinched and then stretched and changed posture. He would know those square shoulders anywhere. “Good night, Marc…” He sighed and headed back to the camp. 

–

It was only two weeks before Jean-Paul saw Jake again. Fleeting, though it was. 

Marc always took the lead when running into battle. It was something the whole team had come to rely on. The man acted as if he were invulnerable and he was good at what he did. 

Only Jean-Paul saw the flinch as someone ambushed him and engaged in a quick up close attack. The knife came out and there was a flash of blood. The assailant went down and Jake looked up at him, panting and wild as if looking for the next fight. Their eyes locked and Jake smirked and gave a wink before Marc’s brows furrowed and he looked down at the would-be attacker. He put the knife away and continued on. 

It happened many times over the course of that mission. It was a mediocre job full of bad intel and worse assignments, but it paid well and at the end, they were happy enough to collect and get out. 

When night fell, Jean-Paul lay in his tent thinking about how he would spend his money. There was talk of heading to Morocco and that meant fancy food, drugs, and paying too much for a pretty face to follow you to bed. It was the usual life for men that had nothing left but time and money. 

He heard a rustle at his tent door and sat up quickly. It was uncommon to have anyone visit him in his tent, let alone in the middle of the night. 

He blinked as a familiar form stepped in and took a casual stance, hands in pockets and head cocked to one side. 

“Jake? What happened? Is everything alright?” Jean-Paul moved to get up, looking for his gun holster. 

A hand went out and caught him, holding him steady. “Everything is fine. Marc had a… A bad dream. If we try to sleep now, it will just be a night of stress. I saw your light was still on so…” He waved a hand as if the implication was obvious. 

Jean-Paul sat back down and sighed in relief. “Is that what you do? Take over when he’s in danger and having nightmares? Not much of a life, huh?” 

Jake considered as he glanced around the tent, seeing what sorts of things Jean-Paul considered important enough to keep. “I take over when the stress is too real.” 

“I wish I had something like that.” Jean-Paul sighed and slouched back on his cot. “What horrors does one have to go through to get someone certified enough to handle this shit?” 

Jake gave a small laugh that was filled with bitterness. “Childhood ones. Not this shit. This shit gives you other problems.” 

Jean-Paul nodded. His childhood horrors had turned him into a mercenary for hire. “Is this shit what gives him the nightmares? Sometimes we hear him screaming at night. Sometimes we all scream at night, honestly…” The song of the soldier. They all learned to ignore the shrieks and cries that came from the tent nextdoor. 

Jake frowned and slowly walked around the small space, glancing at the folding table with journals and maps on it. His eyes flitted over pictures of various people that once mattered and a few current ones of the people that had fought at his side. 

“No. The nightmares are what followed from a previous life. This shit just reminds us why we’re out here.” He leaned back against the table. “I hear we’re going to Morocco. Marc is going to get drunk and spend the next few days in a stupor. What are your plans, DuChamp?” 

Jean-Paul mulled it over. “I had planned on getting drunk with him the first night. After that… I know an opium den that usually welcomes me in with open arms.” 

“Hmm. Things Marc doesn’t need.” Jake sighed. “I was hoping that perhaps you had other inclinations… Perhaps visiting the hotel room of a man in need of a good proper fucking.” 

Jean-Paul raised an eyebrow and swallowed. “Will you be available in Morocco?” 

Jake laughed. “If Marc had his way he would drink himself into the ground. I give him one night and then take the rest away before he throws himself off a building or…worse.” 

Jean-Paul thought about all the other times they had gone out to blow through their money. How Marc would disappear after a day or two and return looking pissed and with no memory of the rest of their excursions. He had thought it was from being blackout drunk. 

He looked up at Jake fully. The more he learned the more he needed to know about this mysterious man. The more he wanted to be the one letting him work out his stressful life. 

“I’ve got some time on my hands now… You know, if your dick is feeling a little….dry.” He licked his lips and shifted on the cot. 

Jake shifted and smiled. He slowly undid his pants and let them fall to the floor. “Tonight your mouth is mine. Tomorrow I own your ass.” 

“Merde…” He was on his knees faster than a catholic in church. “God, Jake… You are going to split me in half…” He crawled to him and slowly slid his fingers over his dick, coaxing it into full hardness. 

Jake only grunted as Jean-Paul placed a wet kiss on the tip and a sharp suck that made him hiss in a mixture of pleasure and pain. 

“DuChamp…” A warning slipped out with a hiss. “Ah… No marks. Save those for later. I can’t…” 

Jean-Paul laughed and turned his kisses into delicat licks. He loved the idea of Marc getting up in the morning for his first piss and wondering why he had a fat hickey across his dick. A secret marker to claim the body as his own. 

He wanted this body. He wanted to lick every part of it. To know the taste of him. 

He kissed his balls gently then sucked each one in, rolling them over his tongue before moving lower. 

Jake’s breathing hitched as he spread his legs. As powerful and controlling as he seemed, Jean-Paul wondered just how experienced this man was. 

His tongue found Jake’s puckered ass easily and probed, slicking it up and slowly pressing past the delicate tight ring of muscles he found there. “God you’re so tight…” 

A whimper escaped Jake’s lips and control was quickly leaving him as he gripped Jean-Paul’s hair, pulling and digging in tightly. “Ah… Oh god…” 

“I think your ass is mine tonight.” Jean-Paul smirked and pushed his tongue inside, running it around the muscles that clenched and trembled there. He could leave marks here, he thought with a grin. Pulling back he slipped down and sucked the back of a thigh sharply and bit down. 

“Ah!” Jake’s body jerked and he looked down at Jean-Paul with wide eyes. “Hijo de puta. You want to play rough? You think you can own this body?” 

Jean-Paul smirked up at him. “I think I know what I’m doing and you’re here for the ride.” He swept Jake’s feet out from under him and maneuvered him till he was on his hands and knees. 

Quickly shifting to get behind him before Jake could protest, he spread his ass and dove in, licking and sucking at the tender flesh there with renewed vigor. 

The string of spanish that filled the small area was likely to be heard in the next tent over. 

Jake’s hips jerked and Jean-Paul was pleased to see the fat cock hanging down twitch and start to drip precum heavily. He reached down and collected the fluid, letting it slide over his fingers. 

“Relax, mon ami.” He pressed a finger to Jake’s entrance and slowly wiggled it and slipped it inside. He could feel how tense he was, clenching and pushing against his finger desperately. It was nothing compared to the panting whimpers that started to come from the man’s lips. 

“Never been penetrated before, hm?” Jean-Paul groaned. “Did I just take your virginity?” He pushed the finger in deeper and slowly moved it around, exploring him. “I wonder if I can make you cum from just this… You are so sensitive… Are you close?” 

He curled his finger as Jake started to groan. “Fuck… Fuck fuck fuck!” His hips jerked and it was more than clear that he was trying to stay in control of the situation. 

Jean-Paul moved to lay on his back, sliding down between Jake’s legs so he could watch that big beautiful dick twitch and bob above him. He kept his finger wiggling inside him, sliding in and out slowly and stretching him. “Cum for me. Cum for me, Jake. I want to see you cum.” 

His finger pushed deeper and curled, searching…searching… “There.” Jean-Paul found his prostate and stroked across it hard. 

The sounds that Jake made would haunt every wet dream Jean-Paul would ever have again. He pushed again and again, stroking and nudging the ball of nerves until Jake’s hips bucked hard, his dick jerking as it started to shoot out thick ropes of cum. 

Jean-Paul gripped his dick with his free hand and was instantly on him, wrapping his lips around the head and sucking out the fluid, swallowing each load down eager. 

Jake thrashed as his prostate was probed, forcing his orgasm to stretch out as he shot out more than he ever had before. His arms trembled as he struggled to stay upright. “Mierde… Ah… ah!” He rolled, the finger at last leaving him but his dick did not escape the starved mouth. 

Jean-Paul rolled with him, now on top and between his legs as he sucked his dick in to the back of his throat easily. It had been too long since he had tested his gag reflex and he was pleased with just how full Jake filled him. He felt the head nudge the back of his throat and he swallowed, humming around him deeply. 

Fingers dug into his shoulders, leaving deep marks that he would cherish. Hips arched, fucking into his mouth wantonly, pushing deeper and nearly suffocating him with each thrust. 

Hands moved down to his own zipper eagerly pulling his dick out as he sucked. His hands were shaky as he stroked, he could feel Jake working up to another orgasm. 

Jake arched his whole body, drawing blood with his fingernails as he shoved his dick to the back of Jean-Paul’s throat and came. He could feel the throat muscles working as the man sucked him down, desperate not to lose a single drop. 

Jean-Paul groaned as the dick in his mouth stopped twitching. He slowly released it, pleased at the angry red color of his swollen head. Moving up, he straddled Jake’s mid section and let his own dick slap down on the well defined chest there. 

“Oh god…Jake…” He gripped handfuls of Jake’s pecks and started to squeeze, pinching the nipples and pushing them together. “Such a dirty body… Begging for me… Begging to be fucked… Ah… Ah!” He came hard, letting his cum splatter across Jake’s chest. 

Both collapsed, panting and trembling together. Slowly, Jean-Paul rolled off him and lay next to him on the floor. “Christ… I think I blacked out there.” 

“DuChamp…” Jake groaned and glanced down at his chest, taking in the mess. “I think if this had been Marc I would have been triggered out about halfway into that. Been thinking about doing this long?” 

“Since I first laid eyes on that body of yours.” Jean-Paul laughed. “You have spectacular tits… and that ass… Oh fuck.” He looked over at him with a smile. “Was it too much?” 

Jake sat up slightly and groaned as his dick flopped to the side, still partly hard. “I’m starting to worry about Morocco. Maybe I will let Marc go on a bender.” 

Jean-Paul pushed him back down and moved to slowly lick his own cum off that beautiful chest. “Mnh. You know you want to fuck me.” He smirked as he licked over a nipple slowly. “I bet you’ve never had an ass before. You’ll never want anything else again. I’m going to let you pound me so fucking hard.” 

Jake groaned and shoved him away. “I’m not letting that mouth of yours near me again for a while. Marc’s going to wake up sore tomorrow and you are going to have to be the one to explain it to him.” 

Jake slowly got up and grabbed his clothes in a bundle. “Good night, Jean-Paul.” He smirked as he left the tent. 

Jean-Paul laughed and lay back. “Good night, Jake.” 

-

True to his nature, Marc drank enough to kill a man. He staggered around the bar until Jean-Paul sipped the empty bottle from his fingers and escorted him back to his hotel room. 

“Christ, Marc.” Jean-Paul glanced around the room. There was overturned furniture and all reflective surfaces were covered by curtains and bed sheets. He looked down at the man passed out in the bed and sighed. “What is your pain? What hurts you so much that you become two?” 

Jean-Paul took a seat, watching to make sure his friend did not suffocate on his own vomit in the night. So much for his plans at the opium den. His own pain was a dull ache that would have to be worked out later. 

When consciousness returned, he helped Marc to the bathroom and held him up while his body rejected the poison inside. Expensive bottled water was drained, but they could afford it for now. Aspirin was taken and a shower was had, Jean-Paul respectfully helping his friend up so he wouldn’t slip and fall as he leaned against the wall in the too hot water. 

When Marc was finally able to stand on his own, a towel wrapped around his waist, he blinked as if finally seeing Jean-Paul for the first time. 

“Fuck. Frenchie? How much is left? I think I can get some of that expensive shit. Bartender wouldn’t crack it open for me yesterday. Bastard’s gonna open it today. Buy the whole fucking bottle.” Marc took a staggering step towards what was left of the mini bar then stopped. 

His hand fell to his side and the glass fell to the floor, rolling away. “Hijo de puta. Mierde. Feels like a puta took up residence in my head.” Jake glanced around the room and groaned. “What day is it?” 

Jean-Paul sighed and moved to pick up the glass. “Wednesday. We’ve been here three days. He hasn’t had anything today but I’m afraid the past two days were uh… I don’t remember the first day.” 

Jake gave him a look and moved to curl up on the bed. “Asprin?” 

“Just took it.” 

“I want the bottle. Put me out of my misery.” Jake groaned and pulled a pillow over his head. “Just take me out back and put two in me. It’s gotta be better than this.” 

Jean-Paul sat next to him and held out an ice pack. “So you feel what he does?” 

“It’s the same goddamned body. Of course I feel what he does. Aye pendejo!” He snatched the ice bag and rolled over, letting it sit on his forehead. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you be getting high or some shit?” 

Jean-Paul sighed and lay back next to him. “You know, Marc is my friend. We’ve been through a lot together.” 

“Not just here waiting for a fuck?” Jake glanced at him. “I’m not fucking anything right now. You can go do what you want.” 

Jean-Paul stared at the ceiling for a bit. He remembered the first time he had found Marc passed out in his hotel room, face down in vomit with a bottle of cheap whisky in his hands. He remembered the first time he had spent a night sobbing into Marc’s arms, he himself utterly blitzed out on some bad shit he had gotten from a shady man in an alley. He remembered having Marc’s back and feeling confident that Marc had his after their first few missions together. 

How they had silently promised to always work together. To maybe one day retire if they lived that long. To buy mansions and try to find peace. 

“I think I’ll stay.” He grabbed the side phone and ordered a meal heavy in grease and bread. “My treat.” 

Jake only groaned and rolled over. 

When the food came, he filled a plate and set it down in Jake’s lap. “Eat. I don’t know when he ate last.” 

Jake glared at him, not used to being cared for. He took a bite and sighed as his body slowly stopped clenching up. The bite was soon a ravenous intake as he realized he didn’t know when Marc last ate anything solid either. 

He managed to slow down as he was handed seconds. “What am I to you?” Jake chewed some flat bread slowly. “Just a way to fuck Marc? A way to have his body without having to confess how you feel to him?” 

Jean-Paul stared down at his own plate and pushed around some heavily spiced meat for a moment. “I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t know what you are, honestly. I’ve seen stranger things. The broken men I come across in this work… Some with god complexes and others with lord knows what sort of mental illness that keeps them away from the regular people. I once met a man that insisted I call him Prince Dafrekie. He was a white kid from New Jersey, thought he was an alien sent to earth to free us from the oppression of the sun.” 

Jake raised an eyebrow. “What happened to him?” 

“Took a knife to the throat.” He stared off at the far wall, suddenly not hungry anymore. “He spoke beautiful French. Learned it in high school. Did he really believe he was an alien? I don’t know. Maybe it helped him get through the day. He liked to read poetry to us at dinner time. None of us ever complained. We sat there and listened…” 

Jake sipped his water then set his plate aside. “Marc had a brother. Then he didn’t. He was young and Marc was supposed to take care of him. The water rose and only Marc came up with it.” 

“Is that why…?” Jean-Paul gestured vaguely to Jake. 

“No.” Jake pointed to the mini bar. “It caused that.” 

“So what made you?” Jean-Paul moved to clean up the remaining food. 

Jake watched him for a moment, considering. At last he shifted and pointed to an old faded scar running down Marc’s side. “Maybe the picture frame that landed on us when we hit the wall.” He pointed to another scar at his temple. “Or the glass that hit our head when we made too much noise.” He pointed to a small white mark under his left eye. “Or the belt buckle that went wide when we flinched.” 

“Deadbeat father.” Jean-Paul nodded. 

“A mother that didn’t know how to handle the loss of her favorite son.” Jake sat back again. 

“Maybe not much. Maybe not as bad as some have it… But he was young. It was how we coped. Now I’m here taking his shitty hangovers while he tries to kill himself slowly in misery.” Jake angrily tossed the ice pack across the room. 

“I’m glad you’re here.” Jean-Paul shrugged. “Maybe I’m using you to get at the body. Maybe I’m pretending you’re Marc. I don’t know what goes on in my own fucked up brain… But I like you. A little something that I can hold onto. Like I know the cheat codes.” 

Jake glanced at him for a moment then laughed. “I forget sometimes… You have to be pretty fucked up to work in this line of business.” He held out an arm and pulled Jean-Paul down to lay next to him. “Help me sleep this thing off. Right now I’m pretty much in agreement with the whole oppressive sun shit.” 

“What if Marc wakes up?” Jean-Paul slowly relaxed into his side. 

“Tell him he got drunk and fucked your brains out. Maybe he’ll stop drinking.” Jake closed his eyes and relaxed. 

“If only…” Jean-Paul sighed and rested his head on Jake’s shoulder, smiling to himself as he breathed in the scent next to him. 

–

He had fucked up dreams. Dreams of fucked up images filled with blood and gunfire. When he woke, it was getting darker outside and Jake was still asleep beside him. 

Or perhaps Marc. Could he tell the difference? He sat up and stared down at the man next to him. 

A glance down and he realized the body was naked, the towel long gone and the blankets kicked off. Not just that, but the naked body with a raging hardon. 

Jean-Paul lay back down for a moment, hands clasped tightly over his chest. “Mon dieu.” 

If it was Jake, he would slip down and lovingly take that offering into his mouth and give him a fantastic wakeup call. 

If it was Marc… 

He sat up again and stared. Was there a way to tell? Did he take the risk? Maybe he could pretend to be drunk or high. It wasn’t the first time Marc would have seen him at his worst. 

But then there was the matter of consent. 

“Fuck.” Jean-Paul lay back down and buried his face in the pillow. “This is why you are like this. You no good piece of shit. Horny as hell. Always have been. Get a fucking hold of yourself!” 

The body next to him shifted and an arm and leg draped over him. 

Jean-Paul froze. “Merde.” His heart missed more than a few beats as he felt hips slide against his side. “Merde…” The hips pressed and he felt that thick dick push against his hip. 

“I am not a strong man, don't test me like this…” He trembled as the hips next to him moved again in slow dreamlike motions. “Oh god. Oh god.” He moved to sit up but found himself entangled in limbs. He was just going to have to ride this out. 

HIs heart pounded as he looked down and watched that throbbing member slide against him. “Jake…” his voice trembled as he tried to wake him up. “Hey…Jake?” 

“Mnh.” The body next to him moaned and ground his hips against him harder, seeking more friction. 

Jean-Paul groaned and reached down, letting his fingers ghost across the throbbing cock. “Oh come on… Wake up already… Please…” He rolled as much as he could and turned away. 

The position was too familiar as he felt hips push against his backside fully now and that cock slid down his ass and between his thighs. “Oh god!” 

He sat up and fell out of bed. 

He could hear shuffling in the bed above him and a tired blinking face peered down at him. “The fuck?” Jake glanced around then sat up. “Was having the most wonderful dream…” 

“Yeah. I gathered.” Jean-Paul slowly got up. “You are going to give me a heart attack. How am I supposed to respond to that!” He looked down at the still hard dick that now lay against Jake’s stomach. 

“Well you could be polite about it and help a guy out.” Jake shrugged and reached down to lazily stroke his dick, in no hurry to get himself off. 

Jean-Paul groaned and watched the hand work. “Consent, asshole. I’m a gentleman when I want to be.” 

Jake smirked. “I consent. I think I was promised one ass in Morocco.” 

All english left him as he looked around the room, hoping against hope that Marc had thought ahead for any chance of having sex. 

Jake watched him, still lazily stroking his dick. “Bag. By the door. Outer pocket.” 

Jean-Paul stumbled and dove for the bag, practically ripping into it. Condoms. Lube. Check. 

He tossed them to Jake and immediately started to strip. “You’ve never done this before. If you fucking tear me…” 

“I’m going to guess you aren’t as much a tight ass as I am.” Jake smirked. “Been practicing?” 

Jean-Paul smirked. “All my life.” He watched Jake roll the condom down over himself and groan. 

“Fuck. Get over here.” He got up off the bed and waited for Jean-Paul to crawl onto the bed, presenting his ass up for him. 

To his relief, he felt Jake slide the lube over his waiting entrance then start to slide a finger into him. A fat thick finger that curled and moved curiously. 

“Yes…” Jean-Paul forced himself to relax and pushed back on the finger. “Go ahead. More.” 

“So impatient.” Jake leaned over him and kissed his spine lightly. A second finger slid inside and started to scissor, spreading him and stretching slowly. “Oh.. You are ready, aren’t you?” 

“One more.” Jean-Paul whimpered. “Just one more…” 

Jake laughed and pulled his fingers out then slowly pushed in three, testing his ring of muscles and stretching him more than he had in ages. 

The fingers pulled out and he felt Jake move behind him and slide his dick across his ass slowly. “Oh yes… yes… Jake…” 

“Say my name again.” Jake groaned and pushed the head to his entrance. “You aren’t fucking Marc here. Remember that.” 

“Jake… Fuck me Jake.” He gasped. “I want you to fuck me, Jake.” 

Jake’s hips hitched and slowly pushed the fat head into him with a pop then held still. “Yes… Again. Louder.” 

“Jake!” Jean-Paul moaned. He could feel the thick girth waiting to stretch him. His hips trembled as he waited for that delicious push and stretch he knew was coming. “Jake fuck me goddamn it!” 

Hips were slammed together and Jean-Paul saw stars as Jake pushed into him all at once to the base. He was pretty sure if Jake had asked, he would have spoken in Spanish for the rest of his life just to beg him to keep going. 

Luckily he didn’t have to beg as Jake gave a shuddering groan and started to move. He pulled out to the tip then pushed back in, testing the feel and deciding how he liked it. He pushed in and held it then pulled out to the head and waited. “Damn… Fucking damn….” He seemed to have short circuited as he felt Jean-Paul clench around him. “Mierde!” 

“Fuck me.” Jean-Paul looked back at him. “Do it, Jake. I want to feel you inside me. I want to feel you fuck me into the ground like I know you can.” 

Jake gave him a flushed smile and gripped his hips, holding him steady. “DuChamp, shut up and moan.” 

He slid into him, slowly picking up the pace, occasionally changing angles to see which agreed with him more. When he angled down and hit Jean-Paul’s prostate he gave a wild laugh and let loose, bucking into him like his life depended on it. 

All language left him as Jean-Paul clutched at the bed sheets. He could only groan and babble incoherently with each inward thrust that rubbed against his prostate roughly. 

He felt his own orgasm build and gasped as his dick splattered his cum over himself. Still, Jake did not stop, grunting and rutting into him like a beast. 

He reached his second orgasm and screamed out, thrashing on Jake’s fat cock each time he felt the pull and push against his sensitive muscles. “Jake! Jake! Oh god!” 

He felt Jake’s hips hitch and jerk then the feel of his dick twitching and pulsing inside. Mercifully, Jake slowly pulled out of him and flipped him over. 

Jean-Paul lay back, staring up at Jake with wide eyes. “Adonis…” 

Jake was still fully hard, the condom full of his cum. “I’m not done with you, DuChamp.” 

He slid his condom off and smirked. “Fuck me.” 

Despite coming twice, his dick practically jumped to full attention at the command. 

“Are you sure? It’s going to be different than a finger and Marc might notice if he can’t sit for a week…” He had no idea why he was protesting. 

Jake laughed and bent over the bed, spreading his legs. “Payback for the hangover. Besides, it’s my body too.” He smacked his own ass and looked up at him. “Fuck me.” 

Jean-Paul pulled out another condom and slipped it on quickly. He leaned over Jake, stroking his hands over his ass and hips lovingly. “Amazing. I don’t know which of you worked hard to get this perfect ass, but I applaud you.” 

“That would be Marc.” Jake laughed softly. “Who needs emotions when you can just do a million squats every day.” 

“Emotions are overrated. Ass is all you need.” Jean-Paul gave a slow lick over his entrance then pulled out the lube and applied a generous amount. “Relax.” He slid a finger in and gently worked around the rim. 

Jake’s back arched and he clenched tightly then slowly forced himself to relax. “Another… I’ve got this.” 

Jean-Paul laughed and kissed his bottom gently. “You have amazing control of your body.” He slipped a second finger in and slowly spread them, stretching and pushing. 

Jake gritted his teeth and started to breathe heavily. “I’ve had to. Keep going. Ah… I think I got this now. Just…Just gotta relax…” 

Jean-Paul made sure to slick up his dick heavily. He lacked the sheer girth that Jake had, but he was in no way short. 

He positioned himself and started to push, keeping a steady pressure until he popped through and held. 

Jake dug his fists into the bed and groaned, his arms trembling as he put all his effort into relaxing. Jean-Paul held still, waiting till his muscles stopped clenching down so tightly, no matter how good it felt. 

Finally he felt Jake’s body relax. He pushed and slid in easily. 

Jake cried out and groaned as his nerves lit up all at once. “Oh holy shit… That feels… Oh god!” He squirmed and rocked his hips back to meet him. “Do that again.” 

Jean-Paul smirked. “Someone’s a little sensitive.” He slowly pulled out to the head, not wanting to force him just yet, then pushed back in. 

Jake’s ass swayed and he squirmed, slowly lowering his face to rest against the pillows as he lifted his ass up. “More… Nnh… Harder.” 

The pace picked up, keeping long strokes each time as he felt the muscles flutter and squeeze around him. He wasn’t going to last. 

From the sounds Jake was making, he wasn’t going to last either. A hand snaked around and gripped his dick tightly, stroking with every thrust. 

The room was filled with panting and groans as their hips slapped together, harder and harder until Jake’s hips bucked and he came hard. 

Jean-Paul wasn’t far behind as he buried himself deep inside and released. 

They both collapsed forward, completely spent. It was a struggle to move enough to pull out of him and get the condom off. 

Jake found his towel from before and used it to try to clean up a little then just rolled over. “Marc isn’t getting his deposit back.” 

“Does he ever?” Jean-Paul nuzzled in, 

“Sometimes.” Jake mumbled. “If I’m in charge.” 

“Not this time.” Jean-Paul laughed. “I think you might be an ass man.” 

Jake groaned. “And what does that make you?” 

“I’m still all about those tits.” He rolled over and nuzzled his face into Jake’s chest.

To his surprise, Jake didn’t push him away. He simply wrapped his arms around him and held him, moving a hand to stroke his hair. 

They lay together in silence for a while then Jake sighed. “You know this can’t last, right?” 

Jean-Paul thought about it for a moment. “I think I knew that coming into it. It’s the nature of our work…Of our life. If we don’t die, we eventually move on. Follow some other self-destructive path or if we get lucky, we hit a big job and disperse with all the gold and riches we dreamed of…” 

“I hope you find someone that isn’t broken, Jean-Paul…” Jake looked up at the ceiling, stroking his hair gently. “I hope you get out and do whatever makes you happy with someone that has great tits for you to cum all over.” 

He laughed and looked up at Jake. “I hope you find happiness, Jake. Someday when you don’t have to hide or worry about Marc swallowing his misery into an early grave. I hope Marc can sit on a beach somewhere peaceful and let you watch a beautiful ass swim in the waves.” 

“Till then, I don’t mind this.” Jake gave a light hearted smack on Jean-Paul’s backside. “Marc will always be an idiota that needs saving. I’ll see you here and there…” 

Jean-Paul nuzzled his chest and wrapped his arms around him. “There’s always the next payday…” 

Jake searched inside for a moment. “We still have this payday. Marc’s going to be out for a while and I’ve only just learned how good it feels to be properly fucked.” 

Jean-Paul laughed and shoved him away. “I’ve created a monster.” 

“Mnh. You corrupted me with that amazing mouth of yours.” He leaned in and kissed him deeply. It was slow and intimate, the immediate fire had burned down. In this moment he could feel all the insecurities, fears, and needs of a man that did not get enough time being alive. 

“Jake…” He whispered against his lips. “Mon amour.” 

“Te quiero....Te amo…” He whispered back, feeling at peace for just this little while.