#and THEN I should be back to getting some regular work done on the comic

[pmd-etu]

[kbspangler]

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.

[stevelieber]

Thoughts on giving critiques to comics artists.

Seeing lots of discussion from students about sour experiences with an unhelpful art teacher, so here's a long, long post about giving critiques.

NB: I have no formal training as a teacher, but I was a student, and I've spent decades giving artists feedback on their work.

When someone brings me a portfolio, I like to establish my limitations & clarify my perspective. My work is firmly rooted in traditional US comics storytelling (i.e., not manga or art-comics.) I can give feedback on other approaches but they should know where I’m coming from.

“We've only got a little time for this, so I'm going to spend that time focusing on things to correct. That doesn't mean you're doing everything wrong, or that there’s nothing good here, but it’ll be more helpful if I identify some problems and show you how to fix them.”

Why? Because for many young artists their entire sense of self worth is wrapped up in being good at what they do. (It was for me!) In school they were probably the best artist in their peer group. But now if they're hoping to turn pro, they’re at the bottom.

Sometimes you know what’s up when you see page 1, but try to keep an open mind. Some build their portfolios by sticking new pages at the back & don’t weed out the old stuff up front, so the work gets better as you go. When it’s like that I ask: “Show me your best 8 pages.”

I ask questions: "What's the goal? Do you want to be hired to work on someone else's project, or to get the story you're showing me here published?"

If 1, I steer towards a portfolio that'll showcase hirable skills. If 2, I look for what tweaks will make that particular story more effective.

"Do you have teachers giving you regular feedback? What are they telling you?" Sometimes a student is getting bad advice. In cases like that, I'll do my best to be extra clear WHY I'm giving them advice that's 180 degrees from what they've been hearing.

“What artists are you looking at? Is there someone you admire or try to emulate?” This often helps me understand choices they're making, and I can sometimes incorporate things those artists do into my suggestions.

I ask myself questions about what I’m seeing. First: Is there a narrative? If not, I make it 100% clear I'm not speaking as any sort of expert. I'm good at critiquing storytelling, but don't have anywhere near as much to offer illustrators or designers.

Can I follow the story? Or am I confused about what's going on? Are the characters and settings drawn consistently? If not, is the artist at least making use of tags (distinctive clothing, hair etc.) to keep the characters recognizable?

Does the artist demonstrate a good command of basic academic drawing? If not, Do I think they need it? Do I focus on "how to draw" or on "what to do when you can't draw?" Is the artist putting the viewer’s eye where it needs to be to tell the story effectively?

(At this point I’m usually doing little doodles to go with my instructions. I scribble out ugly little 5 second diagrams that I hope will clarify what I’m talking about. Or they might make me seem demented. Hard to say!)

Is the artist making choices that are creating more work than necessary? Is there a particular weakness? I once spoke to an artist with a portfolio full of great work when he was drawing animals and monsters, but his humans were amateurish in comparison. I spent that critique talking about drawing people.

A crit can be a grab bag. In addition to big-picture advice, I'll point out tangencies, violations of the 180-degree rule, wonky anatomy, weird perspective, places where the artist neglected to do important research, odd choices in how they spotted black, whatever catches my eye.

I also try to make a point of defining the terms, so that jargon like “tangency,” “180-degree rule,” and “spotting black” don't go over their heads. Find simple, concrete ways to talk about these things, & clarify why it's a problem when they aren't done correctly. Draw diagrams!

Recognize that even a perfectly phrased explanation might not sink in. Some lessons can only be learned when a student is ready, and it might take a year or two of work before they can understand what you were saying. It's good to plant seeds.

Are there other artists who are particularly good at solving the problems the student is trying to solve? I steer them towards that artist's work. And I always recommend life drawing & the use of reference to give work specificity, variety, and authority.

Despite what I said earlier about focusing on what's wrong, I try at the end to find something encouraging to say. And if I’ve really piled on the criticism, I emphasize that I only spent the time and energy to do so because I take their efforts seriously.

If I've done my job right, they'll leave my table with tools to make their work better. And maybe in a few years they'll be looking at some younger artist's work, surprised to discover just how much you can learn when you're asked to teach.

[deadeyedfae]

Hey everyone!

Little Dead Eyed Fae update here!

Basically this last week has been hectic in some very intersting ways! Nothing to worry about just alot of my usual time I use to get art planned and done has been taken up by other more deserving causes this week ^^ as a result there won't be an upload today but I'm still working on my regular bigger comic for Saturday! Fingers crossed it should be out on time!

Also any of my friends that I've not replied to since yesterday! Don't worry nothing is wrong! I'll get back to you all when I can 💜💜💜

[beebfreeb]

DIDL + Website Status Update

You may have noticed that I have not updated my website in quite some time. I've also noticed this, and I enjoy working on my webpage, so this has made me quite sad.

I've made a decent amount of progress since I first announced my webpage design overhaul, and I have to say: I like how it's going!

Obviously unfinished, but I'm excited about it.

About half of the illustrations for 18 are done so far, I have another side comic finished, and the writing for intermission 2 is coming along well.

If possible, the updated website should be out in February 2024, with more regular updates to DIDL afterwards.

More under the Read More below! I tend to ramble + have a bunch of misc bonus stuff I haven't posted (I think).

Feedback on any issues with the current website layout is wonderfully appreciated. You can contact me here, or use my email which can be found on the website.

(I haven't been able to start on the new DREAMLAND main page yet, but I'm very excited to share everything I've been working on when I can!) I really want to work on more Extra Content. While I have some short comics scripted out, I just have so much information in my head and no idea what is best to present first...! If you can think of something I could expand on, I'd be happy to hear it. What would be fun to see?

Also, an update on my very long body type and height reference lineup. I'm unsure if I'll add anyone else, as this is just for characters who I consider major enough to keep consistent heights.

I also have this Phoebe turnaround because I planned to 3D model her before I got very sick in November, and I've yet to return to modeling... I'll get back to it eventually.

Outfit sketches I geniunely can't remember if I've ever posted or not (if not, tell me, so that I can upload them in a separate post!)

And finally,

(^ I want to add more of this style of graphics around the website. Is anyone interested in a sort of "page-doll" type graphic?)

This concludes DIDL newsletter Tumblr exclusive. I should set up a real newsletter one day, so I can force people to check their emails.

[amageish]

Unpacking Kitty Pryde's Sexuality

Okay, I've done a couple posts like this before... Let's take on a big one, shall we?

In Maruaders #12, released in 2020, Kate "Kitty" Pryde kissed a woman.

This was reported on fairly widely as Kitty Pryde's coming-out moment. Many people across fandom and outside of it were celebrating the queerness of one Katherine Anne Pryde. After decades upon decades of queer-coding, it was official! Kitty Pryde is a bisexual woman! Let's all celebrate!

(I personally would not call queercoding "queerbaiting" when it was done at a time when sodomy laws were still being enforced in America, but whatever.)

And then... uh... nothing really changed?

Since then, she has returned to her usual status quo in terms of queerness and queer-coding. She has had plenty of cheeky moments, wink-nods towards her queer identity, but nothing as explicit as a kiss - and no explicitly romantic relationships of any kind.

Now, this headline-making kiss was, narratively, a foil to an earlier kiss - she got a tattoo and kissed her male tattoo artist, died, came back to life, and then got a new tattoo and kissed her female tattoo artist. The woman didn't really have a purpose in the story beyond tattooing Pryde, being kissed by her, and having a design which is strikingly similar to that of Magik, one of Pryde's gal pals... All that said, it wasn't exactly the type of thing that needed to be followed up on... but it is still odd that Pryde kissed a woman, was hailed as bisexual, and then Marvel corporate went silent on the matter.

For some backstory, Pryde has been queercoded more or less since her debut. She's had three roommate situationships which are widely discussed as her queer encounters, plus a handful of other ones - notably a period where she was manipulated by the seduction of Saturnyne.

One of these relationships, Pryde with Rachel Summers, was confirmed by Pryde's creator Chris Claremont via interview in 2016, which increased discussion of her potential queerness - though that discussion has been going on for a looooong time before then.

Now, personally, when I see queer subtext vanish suddenly, my assumption is typically that corporate got involved... which seemed more likely when she was teased as a potential new character in X-Men 97. Perhaps corporate doesn't want her to be queer in that show and so they don't want her to be queer in the comic books either. Corporations are weird like that sometimes.

HOWEVER. Everything is suddenly changing in June 2024? Four years after Kate Pryde smooched a tattoo artist, Marvel mobile games are suddenly really keen to remind us that Kate Pryde is, in fact, queer???

And look. This probably means nothing. It is likely that the marketing people who worked on these events had heard Pryde was queer and tossed her into their events... but it still feels notable to me!

With these mobile game promotions, the idea of Kate Pryde being a queer character is being put in more people's feeds and in more people's minds then ever before... While the kiss was viral, it was mostly viral in queer spaces (as well as the types of spaces vigilantly opposed to queerness in nerd culture media), while this is putting it in the hands of standard mobile game users... Plus it is using Marvel's marketing budget to promote them - Marvel isn't sponsoring posts to put screenshots of Pryde checking out Dazzler's ass in X-Terminators in people's feeds, but they are to let us know that we should log into Puzzle Quest to claim a gaudy outfit...

So I am happy to see this development happen... It does feel like a (however atypical) step forward and I hope it isn't too long before Pryde can get explicitly queer stories told about her on a regular basis... I mean, her name is Pryde, for crying out loud...

[shannendoherty-fans]

Shannen Tribute by friends and co-stars, from "Let's Be Clear"

I complied these from the next-to-last "Let's Be Clear" podcast episode. The podcast launched last year (2023) by Shannen Doherty:

Holly Marie Combs:

I think Shannen would be really pleasantly surprised by the outbaring of love and emotion that has come from so many different people in places, because she really did often feel like the underdog and vilified, and that she had to prove herself in so many different ways. I think she'd be really surprised and shocked by how many people have reached out and said really beautiful things about her. It's just a testament to who she was as a person.

I'm angry and I'm sad she doesn't get to see the places that she wanted to. And I'm angry and sad that once again I've lost, you know, that person that you can call in the middle of the night, to cancer. I've lost another friend to cancer. And it's really hard when you lose someone who should have and really wanted to live along in full life, not just for herself, but for other people in her family. You know, when I went through tough times in my life, some really horrible stuff, and one day I showed up on her door step, and I didn't know how bad I looked physically until I saw it on her face, and I saw her face change, and I knew I must have been pretty beat up. To her credit, she never shied away, she never took a step back, and if something was wrong, she went full end to help me fix it. And I think that's because she had seen so much pain and trauma in her own life that she didn't want to see anybody else go through it. And whether it was me or my kids. She was literally always a phone call away.

It's so unbelievable that, even knowing she was sick, we just thought we had more time. And she definitely did think she had more time. So I guess for me, that's the lesson is that you think you have time, but you don't. And not many people could do what Shannen did in one day. She was just like a tornado of energy. But I think that's the thing to take away from all of this is you think you have time, and so you know, she would give me an awful hard time that I don't say I love you enough. To anyone. It's not on a like you know, personal oasis, but to anyone in general. And so I would say, you know, tell the people you love that you love and live like there is no tomorrow, because that's what she did.

Brian Krause:

When I got on the show Charmed, I was really nervous to show up and perform in front of her. I knew the stakes were raised that you know, I had heard rumors and blah blah blah. And I got on, I knew my lines, I did my thing, and she just looked over me and she kind of gave a little wink in a good job, and you know, to get her approval that I had formed well and done well. It meant everything.

I was told I was going to be a regular on the show [Charmed] , it was actually Shannen who had said to me, because when you had powers on Charmed, you usually were a bad guy and you died. And she took me aside and she said, no, you're a good guy, and you're going to stick around, and you just keep doing what you're doing and you'll be around for a while. And it was her way of saying, you know, good job, keep showing up and keep kicking ass and kind of joining me, opening her wings and allowing me to be a part of her family. And I was so honored by it that Charmed had this "let's kick some ass" and make really good entertainment, and that was all Shannen … setting the standard of what professionalism was. And I'll never forget it.

And I've been so lucky the last few years to have gotten to know her as we've done comic cons and this podcast, and to know Shannen is a human and her enduring spirit of anything is possible. And if I could say anything to "Let's be clear" fans, Shannen really believed anything was possible with hard work, determination and vision, let's go get it. And I don't think I ever should heard her say I don't know how, or oh what if, or it can't. It wasn't a part of her DNA, it was "oh, we've run into a wall. Okay, let's fix this, let's get this done, let's do this. No, let's take action". And I think anything I could pass on that rubbed off on me that meant so much was our work ethic and desire to do what she wanted to do and live fearlessly. And I'm going to take that with me and try and do it every day, every day, every day. I love Shannen so much and I wish I got a chance to tell her that she's an amazing, amazing human being… I just feel really lucky that I was able to be a part of [Charmed] . I'm forever grateful for her friendship.

Drew Fuller:

In honor of her, Let's be very clear: Shannen was a warrior. She faced adversity head on with everything that she got and refused to be a victim. She lived her life with so much passion, with love and a fearlessness that I will strive daily to replicate. She's inspired, hired millions of people, She's inspired me, and I will love her forever, and I hope each and every one of you listening will honor her spirit by living the way she lived.

Dorian Gregory:

I remember her with a smile and the laughter and the joy that we shared together, and that way it will live forever. I was impacted by that. First thing on set. I heard this amazing laughter. I looked around the corner and it was Holly and Shannen sharing a moment having such genuine, real laughter. I walked over first days awkward, she welcomed me warmly, and that was and then a lot.

I come from a house of strong women to turn. Accomplished and sharp as sharks, sharp as sharkingby. That was her. My father passed from cancer, and my mother passed with cancer. So I have a little idea of what happens on the day to day. I say this: because I remember Shannen a year ago and her autographs on me. It's the last time I actually was there physically around her and her wit and her warmth and her energy and her strength just as strong as ever, and her generosity and care for her fans… In every convention I've been with her, every time i've been in her presence. A week ago we did a podcast and Shannen was sharing her years of experience in this distance and the ins and outs, and the ups and downs, and her artistic affectionism, and that was so wonderful to hear.

James Eckhouse:

You were a ferocious spirit. You were ferocious in your work, your talent. You're ferocious in your love. You're ferocious in your courageous battle with cancer. I really loved working with you both as actor and director. Yeah, you always brought all of your heart to every scene. And when I brought my young kids to the set, I'm forever grateful to you for being so welcoming, so kind. They never forgot. We honor you and we treasure you. You will be sorely missed.

Mark Damon Espinoza:

Our storylines [in "Beverly Hills,90210"] were always going in different directions, and I'm really sorry we didn't have more opportunities to actually work together on screen. She was a terrific actress. However, when we did pass on the set at the studio wherever we were, you know, make up, trailer or wardrobe or whatever. She was always really really nice to me. And at the time, it would have been very easy for me to be intimidated. You know, I was working with some of, if not the most famous young people on the planet at that time. They didn't have to be nice. Shannen was, however. And I'll always remember that.

Years after "90210", she was shooting something at the gym where I was working out… and I was a mess. I was just coming from a run and I was sweaty, but she saw me from a good distance away and stopped production, came over to me, gave me this huge hug and wanted to know how I was doing. And she didn't let me go until I told her. I mean, not everyone would hug a sweaty guy at the gym after they've been in hair and makeup and and have a crew waiting. But that that's Shannen, and I'll keep in my heart, you know. That's that's the one I'll remember for the rest of my my own life.

None of us are immortal, and our time is far too short. Hers was far, far too short. But her energy, her her fight, her spirit, that'll live on. That'll live on.

Shenae Grimes:

I owe more to Shannen than I'm sure she ever knew, than most people know. If it weren't for Shannen, I would not be who I am in so many more ways than one. I had the good fortune of being cast on the spin off series of "90210" in 2008, playing the character Annie Wilson, who was part of the brother's sister duo that moved from a small town to Beverly Hills. And the only reason why that happened is because Shannen Doherty created one of the most iconic characters ever to be on television in my opinion, and I think a lot of people would agree with me on that one. Shannen Doherty created the character that we all fell in love with.

I had the incredible fortune of stepping into a tiny version of her shoes and hopefully follow into her footsteps in a way that made Shannen proud. Because Shannen was so warm and so lovely and so fiercely strong and unapologetic, and she is the type of woman that I have always aspired to be. And it was watching her do it despite everything that she was met with and continue to forge ahead, being true to who she was that gave me the confidence to do the same, no matter how much resistance I've been met with throughout my life. Because of that, and there, I've said it before, there's really not been much of a blueprint for how to be a strong, unapologeticly strong woman in a world and society that is so determined to tell you not to. But she did it. She did it, and she, as far as I'm concerned, is one of the very few that is the blueprint. It's women like Shannen Doherty that give the rest of us permission and confidence to demand what we deserve, stand up for ourselves, and not take any shit. And I hope I'm allowed to say that, but I think Shannen would be okay with it. In my short time of getting the job on "90210" and starting to film and being a part of the tabloid fodder and media craze that was at that time, it was only a little why into that process and that experience that I met Shannen and had the privilege to actually work with her portraying the character of Brenda alongside me on "90210". And at that point, already in just a short window of time, I had been so mentally broken down by the experience. You know, I was eighteen when I moved out to La to take on the job. I was by myself, left my family back home, really didn't know anybody other than my cast. And the behind the scenes drama that "Beverly Hills, 90210" was known for definitely was recreated behind the scenes of our spinoff of "90210" as well. And I think Shannen and I am not having ever spoken about it, but I think a lot of our experiences, or the experiences I had, mirrored a lot of the experiences that she had.

Meeting her that day in the trailer, I was so exciting because she was my favorite character from the original show. I had watched it with my mom growing up, so I was a super fan of her already, and I think, you know, brown hair like, she was the gorgeous brunette for the show, so I felt most like tied to her, and I was so nervous meeting her, and she literally just like welcomed me into her trailer with the biggest smile and the warmest hug, and it was like I don't even know if she meant to communicate this with her hug, but it made me feel so seen and like I was not alone in everything that I was experiencing at that time, because it was a lot. It was a lot for an eighteen nineteen year old girl to go through. And getting that hug from her, knowing that she experienced so much at times a million when she was my age, like, was everything to me because all I saw with this was this beautiful, strong woman who was so resilient, who had made it out of that experience still with her chin held high, fire in her belly and being true to who she was, and to me, that was Shannen Doherty. The queen of the Badasses that give us all permission and confidence to be who we are, to demand respect, and to never settle for anything less tan what we deserve.

David Lascher:

I always admired her for being such a strong woman. She knew what exactly what her voice was. She didn't pander to anybody. My scenes [on "Beverly Hills, 90210"] weren't with Shannen, and she was a tough nut to crack, to be honest, she was guarded. But then we became friends. She had this soft side to her that I think a lot of people didn't know, and she was a beautiful soul, and to see such a strong person have to fight the fight that she went through was so heartbreaking and I really thought she was winning. And I'm just so sad and heartbroken, and I love her soul and I hope she's at peace.

Randy Spelling:

Ever since I saw that smile on "Little House on the Prairie" it just lit up the screen. And Shannen lit up the screen, every screen that she was on. She lit up a room, every room that she was in. She just had this energy about her, and she was small and she was slight, but she just had such a big presence and energy that you could feel tough at times, soft and sweet at times.

Shannen, you will be so missed. You will always be my first legitimate crush. And I know you were greeted by so many loved ones. Thank you for being you and for being so committed to that which you believed in and showing that to the world. No matter what it was, you had this incredible commitment and tenacity and drive and passion to go after what it is that you believed in.

Dean Butler:

When we met Shannen for the first time at the beginning of season nine of "Little House on the Prairie", she made a very strong impression. And that impression there were a couple of things. One, she was talented. There was no doubt that Shannen had a gift. And the other thing that you couldn't miss about Shannen is that Shannen was determined to make something of herself in the entertainment industry. She had one of the most powerful motors in that area that I've ever seen in all the years that I've been around our industry. Shannen left us way too soon, but not unlike someone else that she and I both worked with on "Little House", Michael Landon, who died at the age of fifty four from pancreatic cancer. Shannen fit a lot of life into her fifty three years, and she will be remembered for it.

Kevin Smith:

Shannen broke the Internet before the Internet even existed. She's an American icon.

When I went to work on 'Clerks', when we went to Minnesota to shoot the movie, it was almost as if you know the business, Hollywood whatever, you know, I'd arrived with my first movie, but here I was about to take make my second movie, first with the studio, first with a real budget. And the first person from the industry to meet me over this bridge that I crossed thanks to making 'Clerks', the first person in the business of professional who was there to welcome me was Shannen. And I always found that wonderful and bittersweet and ironic that I spent so many nights watching her [on 'Heathers' and 'Beverly Hills, 90210'] on this little television grainy TV, and then I saw her in all her glory in real life, no grain whatsoever. I had a crush on her then I'll always have a crush on her. She was a force of nature.

One month since your departure. Forever missed. Never gone, never forgotten.

[valentinoappreciator]

Sinful Habits

Media: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Valentino

Word count: 3.3k

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags / Warnings: Snuff films, rape, blow jobs, AU - 1950s, sexual coercion, mildly dubious consent

Where else to read: AO3 under the title "Sinful Habits", made by TheWeirdDane.

Author's Notes: Okay, so this is an AU of that 1950s VoxVal AU I'm working on. This scene won't be canon in that actual AU. My lovely friend & beta reader ( @hellsgreatestbrainrot ) came up with this little AU which is quite depraved and right up my alley <3 Read the tags / warnings closely, please! Also, I KNOW that TVs wouldn't stream live snuff films lmao. Let's just pretend that this is a secret channel that only the truly sick and twisted people know about <3

And also? Minors, do not interact!

-------------------------

“So, Voxxy, how’s your and wifey’s sex life? Anything interesting happening lately?”

He was sitting with Valentino in his apartment. Angel Dust wasn’t here at the moment; apparently he was working. So, Valentino had invited Vox over for a drink. At first, Vox had protested, albeit weakly and not really that genuinely; there was something so enigmatic about Valentino. It drew him in, like the swirling power a maelstrom had over a God-forsaken ship. 

Vox blinked at him over the rim of his glass. 

“And, pray tell, why should I divulge that to you?”

Valentino laughed loudly and flicked popcorn in his face. Vox scoffed. 

“Oh, come now, live a little! Don’t be so fucking uptight, Voxxy, it’s not a good look on you. No one likes a stick in the mud.”

Vox couldn’t help the corners of his lips twitching slightly. 

“Not quite true, now is it? It got you to me.”

Valentino snorted and rolled his eyes. 

“Okay, I’ll give you that one, but only because you’re so cute. But now, come on, tell me something naughty you and your little wife have been up to!” 

Vox sighed loudly, rolling his eyes as well. He made sure to make it extra dramatic. 

“Fine, you incorrigible, insatiable little shit.”

Valentino whooped and punched holes in the air while Vox got to thinking. The kinkiest thing he and his wife had done? Well, it wasn’t like they were outrageously sexual, or kinky for that matter. 

He scratched the back of his head. Valentino raised an eyebrow. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve got nothing.”

“I do, okay!” Vox snapped. “It just... might take a little while.”

Valentino groaned loudly and rolled onto his back after flicking another popcorn into Vox’s face. It fell into his drink. 

“Do ya want some inspiration?”

“Whatever do you mean by that?”

“I could tell ya what Angel and I get up to.”

“No!” Vox immediately said, blushing fiercely when Valentino raised an eyebrow at him again, despite his almost comical position on the floor. 

“No?” he questioned. 

Vox groaned and set his drink on a nearby table. 

“And why’s that, Voxxy baby?” Valentino purred. “Are you jealous of all the fun, naughty things he and I do on a regular basis?”

Vox blushed harder, wishing he could melt into the floorboards under him. He looked away from Valentino. 

“As if,” he snorted with a supplementary roll of his eyes. “I don’t want to know what kind of heinous, God-affronting sex you two have.”

Deep down, though, he had to admit that he was... curious, at the very least. He was happy with the sex he had with his wife, yet he couldn’t help but feel there was... something lacking. He didn’t know what, and although he was sure that Valentino would be all too happy to help, Vox wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It could be something really complicated; something that would make him wish for simpler times. On the other hand, though... it could be something really simple that they could easily implement in the bedroom. His wife didn’t strike him as a prude; she had been more than happy to accommodate some of his more... interesting requests. 

“Too bad,” Valentino hummed with a shrug of his shoulders, sitting up to take a sip of his drink before laying down again. “I’m sure it would rock your world!”

“I’m sure it would,” Vox said, not without a certain degree of fondness in his voice that he refused to acknowledge. 

Not much time passed before Valentino opened his mouth again. He had that damning smile on his lips; the smile that said he had a good question lined up, ready to shoot. 

“Okay, Voxxy. You don’t seem the kind of guy to be into heinous shit, so lemme ask ya; have you ever heard of snuff films?”

Vox looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. 

“I have not.”

“Do you wanna hear about it?”

“I don’t know, do I?”

“Oh, it’ll be to die for,” Valentino promised and sat up so fast Vox briefly thought he had spilled his drink. 

“What is it?” Vox asked, caution lining his voice. 

“You’ll see. Don’t worry, Voxxy, I only have the best snuff films available.”

He got up from the floor and went to the television, turning the appropriate dials. Vox followed him carefully with his eyes as he flopped back against the couch where Vox sat. When the television finally came to life, the screen was black and white and somewhat static. A few seconds later, however, the picture turned sharp, and revealed some sort of news announcement. 

Vox glanced at Valentino who moved to the television again, turning more dials until the picture became that of... a dungeon of sorts? It sure looked like a dungeon, or perhaps a basement. Albeit, the rocky walls were lined with a wide array of tools. Some looked like the garden variety, others seemed to be fit for a dentist. Other than those, there were hammers and saws and shears, in an assortment of sizes. 

Vox’s stomach sank. His throat tightened. His palms were suddenly clammy. 

What, exactly, was going to happen in this ‘film’? 

In the middle of the dungeon - or basement, or whatever - there was a massive bed, with a headboard made of metal bars. The bed was bathed in a harsh light, shining down on and revealing a bound and naked lady. She was conventionally attractive; not too skinny but not too fat either. Long hair that looked well-kempt. 

Vox swallowed hard. 

Her hands were tied to the metal bars of the headboard with rough-looking ropes, and her ankles fastened with heavy-looking chains to the bottom of the bed. 

She wasn’t moving. Her eyes were closed. She looked... almost peaceful. 

Feeling as if he was being strangled, Vox was about to ask if she was even alive, when he saw her chest rising and falling slowly, steadily. Sleeping, then. 

“Is snuff film some term I’m not familiar with that means boring film?” Vox asked, trying to line his voice with bravery and sarcasm, rather than the all-encompassing dread that was thrumming in his veins. 

Valentino chuckled darkly and bumped their shoulders together. 

“Oh, just you wait,” he purred and leaned back in the couch, looking way too nonchalant. “The good stuff is about to happen.”

From the screen came the sound of a heavy iron door slamming shut, although it wasn’t on-screen. Vox went ramrod straight. Valentino snickered, patting his thigh absently, which made Vox jump. 

“You’ve... seen this one before, then?”

“Plenty of times,” Valentino revealed with a wave of his hand. 

As the door loudly slammed shut, the woman jerked slightly. She tried to tug her arms down from the unnatural position, but was stopped by the ropes. The camera was close enough to catch the fear in her eyes. 

“Hello?” she called out, her voice shaky. She tried pulling her feet up. The sharp clanking of metal resonated in the otherwise empty room. There was... something about that sound that shouldn’t be as... enticing as it was. Vox instantly felt sick to the pit of his stomach. 

“H-Hello?” she tried again, trying to tug herself free, but without success. 

A man entered the frame. He was dressed in a black robe with a black hood that completely covered his face. 

“Val,” Vox whispered and glanced at Valentino, “I don’t like where this is going.”

Valentino waved a hand dismissively. 

“Don’t be a wuss, Voxxy.” 

Vox bristled and scoffed. Valentino sent him a way too smug smile. 

“I’m not a wuss!”

“Then keep on watching.”

Vox swallowed hard, redirecting his attention to the television screen. He was going to prove to Valentino that he wasn’t a coward. No matter what. 

The hooded figure on the screen got closer to the bed. The woman began trembling. She tried harder to get free, but it was futile. The fear in her eyes was very real. It felt... too real, to Vox. Yet, he couldn’t help but keep watching. 

“No! Go away! Get away from me!” she cried out, writhing and squirming on the bed. 

The hooded figure now stood by the foot of the bed, and the camera angle changed, instead filming the scene as if the viewer watched it through the man’s eyes. The viewer had an unobstructed view of the woman’s intimate parts and her legs flailing the slight bit that the chains allowed. 

The bed dipped slightly as the man got onto it, crawling over the woman to get on her eye-level. The camera followed, now focusing on the widening of her eyes, the sweat on her forehead, and her nostrils flaring in fear. 

“No, please,” she whimpered. “Please, don’t--- don’t hurt me!” 

The man was still quiet. He now pulled back a bit, and the camera showed his hand pushing between the woman’s legs. She gasped, then whimpered, and the flailing intensified. The chains clanked loudly, and the headboard’s iron bars creaked. But other than those sounds, and the woman’s pleas, the room was eerily silent. 

Vox was transfixed. He knew where this was headed - he knew of rape. He knew that some people, some truly degenerate people, got off to that. He had never imagined that he, of all people, would watch a film depicting such a heinous act. 

The man pushed two dry fingers into her. Vox felt all air leave his lungs. She was clearly not enjoying it and cried out and writhed on the bed, continuously begging the hooded figure to stop. Without relenting, without showing remorse, he began thrusting his fingers. He didn’t so much as groan; he didn’t make a single sound as he violated the woman. 

Not even when he replaced his fingers with his - quite large - cock did he produce a sound. The woman, however, cried out. Tears streamed down her face, and her entire body was trembling violently. Gradually, her pleas for mercy died out, instead replaced by her hiccuping sobs. 

Vox swallowed heavily. He almost didn’t notice Valentinos hand on his thigh, and only felt a sliver of pleasure when that hand crawled further up his leg. 

“Oh, but Voxxy,” he began, but as if his voice was the reason that Vox needed to end the trance, he shook his head hard. 

“Val, come on. This is enough, I’ve seen enough. Just stop it already.”

He grabbed Valentinos wrist, making him stop his hand’s advances. It was resting just a few fingers’ width from his crotch. 

“But amorcito, I’m helping you. I’m giving you, heh, a hand. There’s no need to be shy about it. Not now. And this,” Valentino forcefully moved his hand to touch Vox’s cock, stroking him through his pants. Vox gasped. “This seems to be agreeing with me, wouldn’t you say so?”

Vox felt sick to his stomach, again. 

“Val, please. We’ve already crossed so many fucking lines by watching this.”

“Exactly. So why stop here?” he purred, but Vox was getting antsy. Valentino must have sensed it, because he quickly and smoothly convinced Vox to keep watching. “How about this, then, baby? You keep watching the film. I won’t do anything. Promise. My hand will just stay right here. You keep watching. Nothing will happen. Promise, yeah, baby?”

Vox licked his lips, eyes going back to the screen. The hooded figure was now pushing hard and fast into the poor woman, whose eyes had closed tightly. Her head was tilted to the side, as if she was making double-sure she wouldn’t see her rapist. 

He hated to admit it - and never would to another living soul, of course - but his cock was achingly hard. Valentino might just be touching him through his pants, but even so, he could feel himself leaking heavy drops of pre-cum. There would no doubt be a big, wet stain on the front of his pants. 

The screaming and crying from the woman continued. Red burn marks from the ropes began appearing on her wrists. Her flailing fluctuated between violent and weak, as if she had accepted her fate. 

The harder she was raped, the more labored Vox’s breathing got. 

This was... this was real. This was real, actual rape of a real, actual woman. Done by a real, actual man. It was sickening, and Vox wanted it to end. No such luck, though. 

“How... how much longer is this movie?” he croaked to Valentino. 

“Another half an hour, baby,” Valentino purred against his cheek, sounding oddly out of breath. 

Vox hadn’t even noticed how close Valentino had gotten. He barely even noticed how his hand was beginning to move - or was it actually his own hips that bucked so hard Valentino might as well have been jerking him off? Regardless, the sliver of pleasure was now a small wave lapping at his heart. 

Then, suddenly, the reassuring heat of Valentino disappeared. Vox realized he had closed his eyes, and opened them in an instant, first fixed on the screen, but then going to Valentino who had slunk to his knees between Vox’s spread legs. 

“Val,” he groaned. His eyes flitted back to the screen. The camera was now closer to the man’s cock hammering into the woman’s cunt. “Val, don’t, this is---” his voice cracked, and he cleared his throat. “Please, stop.”

“But I’m hardly doing anything,” Valentino purred and stroked Vox’s thighs slowly, from his knees and up to his crotch. “I’m just sitting here. That’s hardly a crime.”

Vox groaned, hating how his cock throbbed. It strained against the front of his pants, and it was starting to get painful. He looked down at Valentino, who looked sinfully enticing. He was all smug smiles and sultry purrs when he spoke again. 

“Eyes on the screen, baby. Okay? Keep watching the film, and I’ll keep on doin’ nothin’.”

Vox shuddered. Closing his eyes for a second, they were pulled wide open when a particularly shrill scream brought his attention back to the screen. He wished he hadn’t. 

The man’s hands were now wrapped tightly around the woman’s throat as he rammed into her, and an intense frisson of delight coursed through him. The small wave of pleasure had become an all-consuming maelstrom that threatened to bring him down. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, leaning his head back a bit before looking at the film once more. Valentino’s hands were slowly sliding up his thighs, but this time, they didn’t back down again. Instead, they seemed to be busying themselves opening his pants. “Val, please,” he hissed, then moaned when his cock sprang free. 

“Don’t worry, baby,” Valentino purred, forcing the pants and underwear down around his thighs, “keep your eyes on the screen. It gets so good, okay? Promise.” 

Vox was half tempted to ask if this wasn’t the good part, but bit his tongue before he could entertain Valentino’s sick and twisted idea of a porno. Instead, he kept watching. 

The man was putting more pressure on the woman’s throat, and arched his back slightly as he slammed harder and faster into her. Her screams soon became muffled and raspy from the choking. 

Then there was a warm wetness on his cock, and Vox almost doubled over from the, frankly, obscene amount of pleasure that surged through him in that moment. He looked down to see that Valentino had taken his cock in his mouth and was now working him with the determination of a skilled and very well paid prostitute. 

“Fuck, Val!” he hissed and immediately lowered a hand to Valentino’s head. Whether to push him away, or... pull him closer, Vox didn’t know, and thus, his hand hovered a few inches above Valentino’s skull. 

Valentino moaned, and that reworked Vox’s moral compass so hard that he decided which it would be. He grabbed the back of Valentino’s head with both hands and pulled him closer. Valentino let out a muffled, but deeply pleased sound while easily swallowing him down. 

His heart beat so fast it felt as though it was trying to escape his ribcage. It made him feel sick, but it made him sicker to watch the film while being throat-deep in Valentino. 

“Val, I-I-I can’t, please, stop,” he panted, even as he began thrusting into Valentino’s mouth, his hands not even allowing him to move away. Valentino’s hands came up to rest on his thighs, letting his nails gently scrape over his flushed skin. 

The hooded figure was now panting. Not loud, and not a lot, but enough that it was audible, even through the woman’s sobs and whimpers and pleas. It was a deep, guttural sound that spoke to something primal within Vox. 

Each thrust in the film, he mirrored by pushing into Valentino, and Valentino, as if he had prepared for this, moaned and whined with the same volume as the woman on the screen. 

“V-Val, your neighbors,” Vox hissed, one eye closing slightly. He felt Valentino wanting to pull back, but for some reason, he couldn’t get himself to let go. 

Heat coursed through him. A tight knot - the tightest he had ever felt it - formed in his lower stomach where it threatened to become so hot and heavy that it would burn his stomach right out of his body. 

This was sick! Sick! Twisted! Depraved! And he was... getting off to it? What had become of him? 

“Please, please please please,” he gasped once he felt the knot become so unbearably tight. He kept ramming into Valentino’s mouth, pushing into his throat. 

The inevitable was coming sooner than he would have liked. 

“Val, please, I’m going t-to come,” he rasped, unable to stop himself from thrusting hard and fast, unable to let go of Valentino’s head, and, maybe most importantly, unable to look away from the screen. 

Valentino’s hands slid to his rear end, squeezing hard, as if urging him to continue. He was moaning and sucking loudly on Vox’s cock, using his tongue to press against the underside of the throbbing, jerking cock in his mouth. 

Vox’s heart was racing. The gears in his head turned at a velocity that rendered them red hot. Yet, despite feeling the thoughts, he couldn’t pluck out a single one. They simply moved too fast. 

“Val, Valentino, please---”

And Valentino rewarded his desperate pleas with a move so impressive and bold that Vox was forced to come on the spot. 

Valentino pushed past his gag reflex, taking Vox so deep that his nose brushed against the coarse hair of his crotch. At the same time, one of his hands cupped his balls, squeezing them gently, as if coaxing him to shoot his load straight down his throat.

“Fuck! Val!” Vox cried out, white-hot pleasure burning through his veins and rendering his brain absolutely useless. The gears finally stopped turning. His heart felt like it had stopped working as well. For a wonderfully long moment, his head was quiet. There was nothing but the pleasant buzzing and the blissful fogginess of a world-class orgasm. 

It all came to an abrupt stop as the hooded figure reached his climax mere seconds later, prompting the woman to gasp as she felt his hot seed shoot inside her. 

Valentino slowly pulled away from Vox, smirking up at him in a way that Vox really did not like. 

“I think it’s safe to say you’re into snuff, baby,” he snickered. Vox groaned and put both hands on his face. 

“I liked you better when you couldn’t talk.”

Valentino laughed, although the sound was a bit grating from the rough treatment. 

“Well, give me a gag, then, and we might have ourselves a deal.”

Vox glared at him through his fingers. 

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Valentino pouted before getting up to sit next to Vox. He grabbed a pack of cigarettes and lit one, putting it between his lips. Having taken a deep drag, he offered it to Vox who looked at the wispy smoke that rose from it. He swallowed hard. 

Why the fuck not? What was a little smoking compared to getting off to snuff films? He had already crossed that unspeakable line, so why not indulge himself in another sinful habit? 

[sneakyparsnipslicer]

Real Recognises Real II

[A continuation to my story 'Real Recognises Real' https://www.tumblr.com/sneakyparsnipslicer/726911756921978881/real-recognises-real?source=share

Set a few months after, really wanted to revisit Tom and Eric, enjoy!]

Preston had been working at an envelope factory for a while now. Granted it wasn't his preferred line of work, it was a job that paid the rent, it was easy enough money, good working environment too. He kept himself to himself mostly, but in time he reached the position of Machine Assistant and he couldn't be happier about that. He was assisting a man he'd long had a crush on, a guy named Tom.

When Preston had first joined, he didn't know anyone and was nervous about making mistakes. Other Operators would snap and become frustrated but Tom was calm and kind, his voice reassuring and saw no trouble in teaching the same lesson several times over until Preston finally got the hang of it. He didn't really know Tom outside of work, but he was shocked when he learned the guy was single.

Whilst Preston could easily focus on the job just fine, he often found his attention ventured towards Tom. He was blonde, tall, and over the recent months had begun to bulk up and become a bit more muscular and self-confident. Someone must have left an impression on him, but it was only making Preston want him more. He'd taken to spying on Tom in the locker room, started as just subtle glances as Tom took off his work kit and changed into regular clothes, the more of Tom's skin he got to see, the more material he had to 'work with' in his own time. He even found Tom's social media pages, granted his content was tame, he soon got a decent view on the guy's lifestyle. He'd ask Tom from time to time if he was free, but he always seemed to have plans with other workmates.

One Friday as work was finishing Preston went to the locker room to sign out for the day when he saw Tom mid-change, his whole upper body exposed.

'Oh, hi Tom!' said Preston, acting surprised. Tom nearly jumped out of his skin, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw who it was.

'Oh, hi Preston. Didn't hear you come in!' laughed Tom, turning his attention back to his locker.

'Say, what gym are you going to?' asked Preston, looking at Tom's back. Tom turned and looked at him confused.

'I don't really go to the gym, why do you ask?' asked Tom.

'Oh, it's just I noticed you've been bulking up lately. Wouldn't mind getting some workouts done myself' said Preston. Tom put on a polo shirt and thought.

'Well I hear Energy Fitness is a good gym, decent membership prices from what I'm told. I'm not really about that life' chuckled Tom, pulling some jeans out from his locker.

'Ah of course, I heard you were more into cosplay' said Preston. Tom looked over cautiously.

'Really, who told you that?' asked Tom.

'Oh some of the others were saying about it, you go Comic Con a lot from what I hear' said Preston. Tom looked at his jeans wondering if he should skip changing out of his work trousers.

'Yeah I do, wish people wouldn't talk about my private life' said Tom.

'I'll bet you do a great job on it, love a guy who can pull off Spider-Man with the right muscle definition' replied Preston. Tom fell silent, busying himself stuffing the rest of his belongings into his backpack.

'You good there Tom?' asked Preston, looking over to him.

'Yeah, I just remembered I need to hurry off' said Tom hurriedly shutting and locking his locker.

'Hold on a sec Tom' said Preston. Tom sighed and looked to him.

'I was wondering if you're free tonight, but I guess you're gonna make up a bullshit excuse' said Preston. Tom was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

'You've been turning me down way too often and I'm starting to get sick of it' started Preston.

'Well yeah I just have other plans' replied Tom. Preston shook his head.

'Damn it, why do you insist on playing hard to get?' demanded Preston slamming his locker and glaring at him. Tom was taken aback by this sudden display of aggression.

'I really want to get to know you better, but you never give me a chance. If you do have any free time tonight, I'd love to meet you at The Fox and Peony for some drinks' said Preston dismissively.

'Alright Preston, calm down. I'll join you for one drink only!' said Tom assertively. Preston looked at Tom and shook his head.

'Sure, just be there or don't' mumbled Preston, pushing past Tom to clock out, nearly bumping into their other work colleague Eric.

Later that night Preston made his way to the pub in town. It didn't seem all that busy, but he headed to the bar and bought a beer. He looked around the place for any signs of Tom. Doing a double take he noticed a man sitting in the corner that he was pretty sure was Tom. No, there was no mistaking that face, it was Tom. Preston called his name and Tom looked up from his phone, smiled and waved.

'Hey, good to see you!' said Preston, smiling.

'Well I said I'd be here. One drink only though, right?' replied Tom. Preston chuckled and they clinked their glasses. Upon looking at Tom closer he seemed different, maybe the room's lighting was bad but his hair seemed a bit darker than usual, and his shoulders seemed a bit broader.

'You all good there Squire?' Tom asked. Preston snapped out of his trance and shook his head.

'Oh yeah sorry, um, look I just wanted to apologise for snapping at you earlier' said Preston. Tom sipped his beer and shook his head.

'Nah it's all good mate, it's not like I've made much of an effort to get to know you, work's been busy lately and management are very keen on getting their numbers' said Tom. Preston nodded his head.

'So, what do you do out of work then?' asked Preston.

'Oh a bit of this and that, skateboarding, guitar, going to conventions, playing games' listed off Tom on his fingers. Preston was taken aback. He didn't know Tom was a skateboarder, or a guitarist for that matter.

'Wow, sounds like a busy life!' chuckled Preston.

'Kinda yeah, kinda no, it depends on the day Squire' said Tom. Preston just couldn't work it out, Tom seemed so different here compared to work, a lot more laidback.

'So how come you keep calling me Squire?' asked Preston. Tom looked at him surprised.

'I call everyone Squire!' laughed Tom.

'Actually yeah thinking about it, you and Eric do that a lot' chuckled Preston. Tom finished his beer and sighed.

'Well I'm just gonna go to the toilet, I'll be back in a moment' said Tom, getting up out of his seat and leaving Preston alone. Preston glanced as Tom walked away, his back definitely seemed a lot more broader tonight, and the shorts he was wearing definitely hugged his ass really tightly. He couldn't think if he'd ever seen Tom wearing shorts before.

A few minutes passed and Tom still hadn't returned, Preston decided to down his drink and go look for him. It didn't take long as he found him in the men's toilets near the sinks.

'Hey Tom, thought you got lost' said Preston. Tom turned to look at him, smiled and turned his attention back to the sink, where he had a pouch of tobacco.

'Just rolling myself a ciggie mate, you want one?' asked Tom.

'No thanks, I didn't know you smoked' replied Preston, approaching him cautiously.

'Ah well, there's a lot you don't know about me' said Tom. Preston cleared his throat.

'How do you mean Tom?' asked Preston, inches from Tom.

'Like this' said Tom, and he grabbed Preston's shoulders and pinned him against the wall, his face an inch from Preston's.

'Well this is what you've wanted isn't it? Me and you, a little Tom Time?' asked Tom, looking him up and down, grinning. Preston felt strangely turned on by this sudden commanding presence Tom had.

'I-I mean, I m-might have' stammered Preston, his breathing elevating.

'Well then' whispered Tom, and he pulled Preston into a kiss, to which Preston put up no resistance, he had wanted this. He felt Tom's hands and arms wrap around him into an embrace as the kiss kept going and his tongue began to invade his mouth. Preston could feel himself harden as he moved his own arms to hold onto Tom's back.

'Give me everything' moaned Preston as Tom kissed his neck.

'You asked for it!' replied Tom, locking lips with him again and inhaling. Though at first Preston could only taste beer and tobacco from Tom, it soon started to get better, perhaps he was losing his mind but he began to taste sweeter, creamier. Preston opened his eyes and could see that Tom seemed to be deflating slowly and he himself was beginning to inflate, his muscles expanding. The thick creamy fluid in his mouth began to fill him, warm him, it was heavenly. Tasting of peaches, cream, honey, it was amazing. Tom squeezed Preston more into his body as the fluid he was secreting into Preston began to lessen. Tom shuddered and pulled back, shaking his head and looking at Preston, who was dazed but smiling.

'Holy shit! How did you do that?' asked Preston, licking his lips and looking to his newly gained muscles. Tom shook his head and blinked his eyes.

'Fuck me that was different!' said Tom, as if he had no clue of what he just did. Preston noticed Tom's clothes were more loosely fitting on his body now.

'Just what the hell are you Tom?' asked Preston, but as he said that he began to feel drowsy.

'It's alright Preston, just let him work his magic' said Tom reassuringly, placing his hands on Preston's shoulders. Preston began to sway and fell onto Tom.

'Him? Magic? What are you talking about?' Preston asked, his head resting on Tom's shoulder beginning to doze off.

'That's right, just rest now Preston, it's alright' whispered Tom, patting his back. Preston smiled, he liked Tom being like this, before he knew it he had lost consciousness.

Tom carried Preston onto the sink and placed him carefully against the wall.

'Alright, you can come out now Squire!' said Tom, folding his arms. Preston's eyes opened and he stretched, yawning.

'Well that went nicely I think' he said, massaging his chest and smacking his lips. He caught sight of himself in the mirror, granted it wasn't the face he was used to, but he winked at Tom's reflection all the same.

'Yeah well, you nearly gave yourself away on a few occasions Eric, but thanks for helping me out all the same' smiled Tom to which Preston, or rather Eric nodded his head.

It had been a few months since the first time Tom and Eric had merged in Eric's garage, since then they'd made a semi-frequent habit of it, and by now Tom was willing to let Eric wear his body sometimes, though as a result, Eric had stretched Tom's skinny body out a bit, leading to some unwanted attention it seemed.

'Gotta say, that transferral was a bit different, is that new?' asked Tom, licking the inside of his mouth, tasting the sweet residue.

'Indeed it is, I can transfer in several ways, gotta keep it exciting for my most favourite Squire!' Eric chuckled.

'So you literally became muscle milk?' asked Tom. Eric's eyes widened and he nodded with the most unhinged smile on his face.

'That's fucking crazy!' laughed Tom.

'Crazy? I was crazy once' said Eric ominously.

'They locked me in a room, a rubber room, a rubber room with rats' said Tom.

'And the rats made me crazy!' they both said, bursting out into laughter.

'But anyway, what are we gonna do about this guy?' asked Eric, patting his stomach and pocketing his tobacco pouch on the sink. Tom thought for a moment.

'You can access his memories right? I need a few concerns putting to rest' Tom requested. Eric nodded and closed his eyes, searching.

'Let's see, oh he's been checking you out alright, nearly every time your back's turned' began Eric.

'Yikes!' said Tom, creasing his eyes a bit.

'He's been checking out your social medias' continued Eric.

'Fucking knew it! That mention of me cosplaying Spider-Man was way too good to have been a guess' scowled Tom.

'Oh shit! He's built a shrine to you in his bedroom!' laughed Eric.

'What the actual fuck?!' Tom hissed wide-eyed.

'Nah, I'm just messing with you Squire, but he is big into you, obsessed even, very unhealthy' said Eric, opening his eyes. Tom paced back and forth.

'Well we can't just get rid of him, maybe we can take those feelings and get rid of them?' asked Tom.

'Well it's possible yes, but it's gonna suck, at least for you' sighed Eric jumping off the sink.

'How do you mean?' asked Tom looking to his friend.

'Well I can concentrate his memories of you, feelings and all that into one place, you're just gonna have to suck them out' said Eric, giving his body's junk a shake. Tom looked in disgust.

'Oh come on Eric, I'm not about to give you a blowjob in a public toilet! What are we? Teenagers?' asked Tom. Eric raised his eyebrows and gave a flirtatious look and walked into the nearest cubicle.

'You know you'll like it!' called Eric in a sing-song manner, giving an evil laugh. Tom looked to the bathroom door and shook his head.

'You're just lucky it's you Eric, anyone else I'd tear their fucking dick off!' replied Tom, marching over to the cubicle, thrusting the door shut behind him and locking it.

Tom sighed and turned to Eric, who had already taken Preston's jeans and boxers off, revealing a greasy-looking penis standing at full attention.

'He could stand to clean that thing once in a while. How much of it's you?' asked Tom.

'Hmm, easily over half I'd say' said Eric, looking to it. Tom shrugged his shoulders and got down on his knees, ready to get to work on it. He grasped it and Eric shuddered in anticipation. Tom looked to him.

'Tell me that wasn't you' said Tom, glaring.

'Oh no, he's been wanting this for so long, he's a bit touch sensitive' said Eric, winking at Tom. Tom sighed.

'Well, at least it won't last long then' mumbled Tom, beginning to take the cock in his mouth. He let the shaft down the back of his mouth and began moving his head in a slow rhythm. Eric put his head against the wall, looking to the ceiling, concentrating on Preston's every thought and feeling regarding Tom and guiding them South.

'Alright, on their way to you now Squire!' panted Eric, biting his lip. His body started to wriggle and Tom firmly grasped the thighs, picking up the rhythm. Eric's breath became more laboured.

'Wow, you're angry tonight!' chuckled Eric. Tom looked him dead in the eyes, the dick slipping out of his mouth.

'Well I hadn't planned to be in a public toilet on a Friday night giving head to a greasy cunt like Preston!' growled Tom furiously, jerking the dick harder. Eric placed his right hand on Tom's right cheek.

'Hey, later we can have another session, just me and you if you'd like' smiled Eric. Tom did smile at the idea, if anyone could get him fully going it was Eric.

'Alright then, let's get this over with and get Preston home' said Tom, returning to sucking. Eric nodded and placed his hands behind his head. Shortly after Eric's body began to twitch more.

'Oh! Here he comes! Here he comes!' moaned Eric. Tom quickly took the dick out of his mouth and Eric groaned as he nutted a few thick splurges all over the door behind Tom. Eric sighed and laughed.

'There we go, he could not give a fuck about you now!' Eric announced proudly, wiping his forehead with his hand, catching his breath.

'Good' replied Tom, wiping his own mouth and grabbing some toilet paper and proceeding to wipe the mess off the door.

'Why bother with that? It'll dry' asked Eric, busy pulling the boxers and jeans back up.

'All the same I am not a messy house guest. Yes it's a public toilet, but the less evidence of this, the better' said Tom, folding the gunge-housing tissue and throwing it into the toilet, flushing it.

'Right, since you're in his mind, delete my socials from his browsing history. Check his photo gallery too just in case. We'll dump him back at his place and then we'll get some beers in and you can come over mine tonight, sound good?' asked Tom, unlocking the cubicle door and making his way to the bathroom door to hold it open for Eric, who nodded and pulled out Preston's phone, inputting the password and checking for anything Tom-related and deleting or erasing it. Tom knew the address once Eric had told him it and they began to make their way there. Upon arriving, Eric unlocked Preston's door and they both went in to his bedroom. Tom sighed a breath of relief to find there indeed wasn't a shrine for him there. Eric laid himself down on Preston's bed and began to unmerge himself from Preston whilst Tom checked Preston's cupboards and drawers for anything like diaries or photos of him, surprisingly he couldn't find any.

'Squire, we have a problem!' called Eric. Tom hurried into the bedroom to find Eric standing naked over Preston.

'You're wearing my clothes' said Eric, looking at his t-shirt and shorts on Tom. Tom sighed and pulled the t-shirt off, turning around.

'Very well, get in then!' sighed Tom, presenting his back. Eric rubbed his hands and grinned.

'Nice!' he said, beginning to stroke Tom's shoulders. Tom positioned himself against the nearby wall to support himself whilst Eric wrapped his arms around him and began to sink in. Eventually the two friends were one again, and Tom put the t-shirt back on.

'Right, I think we're done here!' said Tom happily, clapping his hands together. Preston stirred in his sleep and he thought it best to get out as soon as possible. He locked Preston's front door, posting the keys back through his letter box and headed off for some beers and quality time with Eric.

The following Monday Preston arrived at work same as usual. Heading to the shop floor he was greeted by Tom.

'Morning Preston, did you have a good weekend?' asked Tom, looking up from the work computer and smiling. Preston rubbed his head.

'Hey man, don't remember much of it if I'm honest' yawned Preston.

'Well we've got a busy day ahead so you'll need to wake up soon. We're moving from Size 10 to Size 6, so would you be alright to change the bubble wrap?' asked Tom, to which Preston nodded, not really looking at Tom. He headed off up the machine and Tom looked across the factory, on the other machine was Eric checking an envelope for misprints. He looked up at Tom and smiled, giving a thumbs up. Tom winked and gave him a thumbs up too, he sighed happily and proceeded to focus on changing the ink rollers.

[hiveworks]

OBELISK - Interview with Ashley McCammon

September 2023

The year is 1908. Evelyn Reuter is dealing with the affairs of her deceased father in her hometown of Manhattan. While she takes solace in the homes of her queer friends, grief presses in around her until one day... the mysterious Margot appears in her life.

Obelisk is a 16+ gothic horror/romance comic about vampires and lesbianism. In celebration of Obelisk's return from hiatus, we asked author Ashley McCammon @draculings for an interview.

What was the spark behind making Obelisk? Why a webcomic versus another style of publishing (print, self pub, etc.)?

My original inspiration for Obelisk was in my frustration with lesbian vampire movies - there are so many of them, and none made for a lesbian audience, let alone involving butch women! I wanted to tell that story, and celebrate that point of view. It’s similar to why I chose to set the comic in 1908 - the early 1900s are something of a transitional period, something not explored often when we aren’t talking WWI or the Titanic. I wanted to tell a story about the radical change happening in just a few, unusual people’s lives, in this transitory period. As for it being a webcomic - as a young artist, I always wanted to make one! It’s such an accessible, experimental way to tell a story, where even the website can be part of the atmosphere. Making a deeply atmospheric, spooky comic, that feels the most fitting.

For new readers, how would you describe your two lead women?

Evelyn is muscling through her day to day when we meet her - she’s putting on a brave face, or one that she hopes exudes confidence - but really feels like she has no idea what she’s doing. (The impostor syndrome is incredibly strong - something I think a lot of people can understand!) She’s been left with this enormous responsibility on top of the grief of losing her dad, and having that job and security is pressed on her as something she should be grateful for. She’s absorbed that idea and really hasn’t taken a moment to breathe - or to consider what she really wants for herself. Margot is quite the opposite - she’s a vampire who lives only for her own desires, a hedonist who’s been floating through existence that way for as long as she can remember. For all of her self indulgence though, she’s never connected much with anyone. She holds herself far above people, only ever showing them this facade of a regular person. It’s very arrogant - but it must also be very lonely! (Not that she has anyone to admit that to… yet ;)   )

What can you tell us about what's lurking for Evelyn in the upcoming chapter?

Evelyn makes a very bold choice at the end of chapter two, one that scares her - putting her own desires first, impulsively, in a way that will change everything and surprise even Margot herself. (Patrons read way ahead and will get to see this very soon, and the time she spends with Margot throughout chapter 3 as a result!)

Obelisk is a traditionally inked piece, with some digital final touches. What guided your decision to make this a traditional comic versus a digital one?

It really wasn’t a choice, to be honest - traditional media is where all my passion for making art lives! Obelisk is drawn and inked traditionally, and finished with Copic markers and the occasional paint pen or colored pencil for that killer red highlight ;)

What are some of the challenges in working this way? What do you find rewarding?

It can be tedious to scan, piece together and clean up my pages, but ultimately I have a fairly streamlined process for it and I don’t mind. I love having a physical final product to look at and hold when I’m done with it, it gives me a sense of accomplishment and connection to my work!

Do you have any tips for other comic artists on resuming a series after an extended hiatus?

Put your health first, and spend time reconnecting to your story before diving back in. It’s easy to feel obligated by the hamster wheel of social media and garnering attention, but your own connection to your work in the long-term is what matters most. Obelisk wouldn’t be the same story if I hadn’t had that downtime, and it’s off better for it!

What are some comics that inspire you? Do you have any reading recommendations for fans of Obelisk?

As far as webcomics go, I’m a big fan of Tiger Tiger, Hemlock, Barbarous, and Heirs of the Veil!

What is the best way for fans of Obelisk to support you?

The very best way is through my Patreon! Patrons have immediate access to the next six months of Obelisk pages (that’s my whole buffer!) as well as tons of behind the scenes work as I develop the next chapter and share work-in-progress shots right from my drawing table.

Obelisk updates Wednesdays and can be read for free at obeliskcomic.com 🩸Be sure to white list the site on your ad blocker and follow @draculings for more info and updates!

[dutchvanwinkle]

Would you consider doing a fic request involving a three way with Dutch and Arthur? There isn’t enough out there with both in!

Would I consider it? Baby I fantasize about it on the regular. Enjoy ☺

I know it took me a while to finish but I hope the wait was worth it anon!

This is set in the early-ish days, Arthur being mid-twenties and Dutch being mid-thirties because I love the thought of cocky Arthur in his youth.

The Importance of Hierarchy - Arthur x Dutch x Reader

ao3 link if you prefer.

Summary: Arthur and Dutch notice you’ve become too self-assured and seem to have forgotten the hierarchy within the gang. They take it upon themselves to remind you.

Word count: 15,119

Content warnings: So much smut, 18+ (please check ao3 for specific tags)

Life in a gang had thoroughly surprised you. At first, when the offer arose of joining a small gaggle of outlaws you weren’t entirely sure about the whole thing. Most of them that had joined the gang did so because they had nowhere else to go and it gave them an opportunity for a second chance. But you were poached by them, a talented thief with a quick wit who they happened to run into when a few of them were targeting the same mark as you. It made sense to team up for the job at the time, they seemed decent enough and if you were being honest, you were slightly out of your depth sneaking into the mansion of a local businessman; not that you’d ever admit that to them.  

The whole thing went off without a hitch, and you stole more than you’d have been able to on your own, so even when split between yourself and the three men your take was larger than you’d expected. You parted ways afterwards but hadn’t expected them to track you down some days later with the promise of a larger take and a spot in their gang.  

While the job went well, you still had your reservations. Though this time, your new friends Arthur, John, and Javier had brought along the gang’s leader who appeared to harbour the group’s share of charm and smoothly twisted your arm into joining up with a promise that it can only be temporary should you decide it’s not for you.  

Alas, temporary it was not.  

This way of life suited you; it was nice having other people to talk and drink with, and it was nice having them there to fall back on if a job went sour. Six months went by and you were already a part of the furniture, well-accustomed to the ebbs and flows experienced by the Van der Linde gang. The vagabonds had already stepped up from the title of colleagues and you proudly thought of them as your family.  

And as with every family, that just so happened to include the regular squabbling - harmless as it was.  

Currently, you felt nothing other than frustration at Arthur and Dutch, one-upping each other with their marksman skills as they shot bottles and birds alike while you sat and waited for them to get a move on so you could start turning the ground over in the gang’s new surrounding area for some fresh leads. Leant by the small tree a ways off the main road, you’d watched for over forty-five minutes and they didn’t appear to be stopping anytime soon.  

While Arthur made an excuse about why he’d missed a shot you flicked open your pocket watch, grunting at the time that greeted you. It was getting late, you were getting hungry, and they were getting on your last nerve.  

Pushing yourself off the tree’s trunk, you stood between them and held up your rolled-up map. The two men stopped their animated discussion almost comically, heads tilted at you like a pair of dumb dogs for an explanation.  

“If you boys are quite done with your pissing contest, I believe we have some work to do,” you reminded them, unrolling the map and holding it open.  

They shared a cursory glance at the map before each other and then you, the corners of their lips turning up in amusement.  

“Sorry little lady,” Arthur drawled, casually digging his repeater into the ground to lean on. “Didn’t realise you had somewhere better to be.”  

You huffed tiredly. “I just don’t want to spend my time standing around. The two of you can go off and shoot all the bottles you like once we’re through, and I can go elsewhere.”  

“When did your time become so valuable? Had I known, I might’ve taken out a small loan or asked Strauss to balance the books for me,” Dutch mused, Arthur’s chuckle chiming in the background. “We ought to make amends to our budget to allow for our new expense. Would you like your payment weekly or monthly, miss?”  

“Any time today would be grand,” you scoffed. “Stop being an ass, you said this wouldn’t take long.”  

Dutch raised his eyebrows at your comment and choice of name for him, and cockily crossed his arms – something you suspected was usually enough to get someone to rethink their words. You knew talking back to the man in charge was a brave, or stupid, thing to do but on this occasion, you thought you were warranted to say something. Besides, he always did struggle to be mad at you considering the high-quality work you’d put in for the gang so far.  

“My my, Arthur. Seems our girl is growing bored of us.”  

You dropped your arm to your side, the map dangling uselessly and rubbed at your brow with a fatigued groan. “It’s not that. I’m happy to go to town on my own, I don’t see why I have to come with you both anyway. Then you can finish whatever... sport this is and go off on your own accord. Sound fair?”  

They glanced at each other once more, not seeming even slightly bothered by your small outburst and instead seemed to find humour at each turn of the conversation. After mirroring each other’s smiles, Arthur cleared the laugh building in his throat.  

“What’chu think, Dutch? Sound fair to you?”  

Dutch hummed thoughtfully, feigning the action of decision-making and only doing so for the sake of creating suspense. Arthur waited patiently; a befittingly boyish smirk plastered across his face.  

“Now, what is fair? One may define it as -”  

“No,” you interrupted immediately, one of Dutch’s lectures the last on the list of things you wanted at that moment. “For the love of god, no.”  

“No what?” he asked, eyes warm and mischievous.   

“Please,” you sighed, placing a hand on his shoulder. “I’m appealing to your humanity. Do not make me sit through a lecture. And do not make me sit through any more mindless shooting.”  

“Alright,” Dutch acquiesced, raising his arms in surrender and Arthur tutted at the swift end to his entertainment. “Fair enough. As you wish, we can go ahead and do our scouting now instead.”  

“Thank you,” you said pointedly, turning on your heels to lead them back to the horses who you suspected were just as bored as you were.  

So, you got your way and the ordeal was finished, but at what cost? While you did scour the town for leads, from then on, the two men thought it funny to use every opportunity to tease you and you began to miss a few hours previous when you only had to listen to the repeated fires of their guns instead of their smarmy remarks. They really were a childish pair of bastards.  

✾

The local town was fruitful, filled to the brim with leads that you’d been tracking in your journal. The gang was busy and spirits were high with all the planning that was going on. You’d taken a second trip into town with Karen a few days later to scout for a job the two of you had been scoping out and you’d robbed a stagecoach with John and somehow come out the other side unscathed. One job you’d been helping plan for was on hold, it was one of the biggest you’d been involved with and required a generous amount of dynamite to pull off. Though the one person who promised to get you said dynamite was yet to deliver.  

After pondering the rest of the active leads and deciding this particular one was a priority to set in motion, you pushed up from your bedroll and beelined for Arthur, sitting outside Dutch’s tent sharpening his knife.  

“Arthur,” you greeted him and the outlaw raised his head in response, eyes quickly darting to the small book in your hand as he calculated you hadn’t come over for a friendly chat.  

“How can I help?” he asked pre-emptively with an underlying tone of sarcasm.   

“I need the dynamite sooner rather than later,” you informed him, ignoring his mocking façade of helpfulness. “This one can’t wait much longer.”  

Dutch was facing the other way, a cigar pressed to his lips. He smirked at the thought of you bossing around big stubborn Arthur.  

“That right,” Arthur sat back with a sigh. “I don’t get no hello how are you or what can I do to help you do I? All you want is for me to do something, like I’m not always doing something -”  

“Arthur,” you interjected sternly. “You said you’d get it in the first place so stop making a fuss. It’s not like I’m asking for much and we can’t do anything without it. It is your job to keep the ammunition topped up.”  

“You could always try asking me nicely.”  

Rolling your eyes, you exhaled the cool air and reminded yourself not to rise to his teasing. “Just do it,” you lamented, turning to leave before he could make another remark.  

Dutch took it as an opportunity to lean on the back of Arthur’s chair, awaiting his pending complaint.  

“When did she get so god damn demanding?” the younger man promptly delivered, and while Dutch thought of a reply he found himself distracted by the sway of your hips in that skirt as you made your way back to your tent.  

Arthur’s hungry eyes lit up just the same despite his grievances, the pair of dogs now closer to a pair of wolves spotting their next target for prey. It really was a flattering skirt.  

The two men noticed the silence hanging between them at the same time, frowning at each other before taking their gazes away from you.  

“Stop being a pervert,” Arthur deflected, letting out an awkward cough.  

“You stop being a pervert,” Dutch countered, busying himself with straightening out his already straight waistcoat.  

“That thing even still work anymore?” Arthur gestured lazily to Dutch’s crotch.  

“Course it still works Arthur, I’m not senile.” Dutch then took the opportunity to look back at you, pencil now pressed onto your bottom lip while you concentrated on that little journal of yours. A brief wave of guilt washed over him.  

Of all the people in his gang, you were by far one of the hardest workers. It was refreshing to have someone come in that had no requirements for learning the ropes, and instead taught the rest a new trick or two and provided useful insights whenever anyone asked for it. He knew that deep down you were similar to him, worrying more than necessary about the gang and overcompensating by bulking out the available funds with your labour. Sure, sometimes you could be overbearing and he wasn’t sure he’d ever even seen you sit still for a full day, but he thought back to the time you joined, often the life of the party that had now traded the drunken late nights for early, hangover-free mornings so you could get to work straight away. Dutch was truly grateful to have such an asset, but he worried that the way he hammered in the importance of loyalty and hard work had been too much and unnecessary. You just cared. A lot. He suspected you never required that push in the first place that the others usually do.  

The way Dutch saw it, he was left with two problems. You’d forgotten how to have a good time and also forgotten the level of responsibility you had; while he was glad you were invested in the gang’s forthcomings; he couldn’t have you ordering his senior gun around. That was his job, after all.  

He did know of one way to kill two birds with one stone.  

His face and posture relaxed in turn at the enlightenment, and Arthur felt the air shift around him. He looked at Dutch inquisitively, noticing the ever-obvious signs of the man’s mind formulating a plan. “What you thinkin’?”  

“I’m thinkin’ we take little miss out on a special job, just the three of us.”  

“A special job?”  

“Sure. Maybe remind her how to have some fun,” Dutch said, a devilish look growing on his face. It soon hardened in place with a committed exhale. “And while we’re at it, we can remind her who’s in charge.”  

Arthur frowned; not entirely sure what Dutch was going on about but as usual, he assumed he wouldn’t escape being dragged along for the ride.  

✾

It was a mild day, overcast skies and a cool breeze passing through the street you walked along on the way to the hotel. Dutch had asked you to meet him and Arthur there for a job and said that he’d explain more when you arrived, your only instruction being to wear a nice enough outfit that’d still let you blend in. You chose your favourite skirt and blouse combination.  

The hotel was average-sized, slightly larger than one would find in a small town but nothing compared to the big city ones. You’d been in once before, to the bar on the ground floor when you and the girls had a field day swiping valuables from the over-served patrons. A hotel with its own bar was a smart idea, from the hotel’s financial perspective, yet dangerous for its customers. Knowing there’s an available bed just up the stairs often makes people more likely to reach questionable levels of intoxication. That usually worked in your favour.  

Room eight, fourth door on your left when you reach the upstairs landing. The clerk’s words repeated in your head as you walked up the stairs, the small key clutched in your hand. Sure enough, there was the door to room eight.  

Upon opening it, you frowned: no sign of Dutch and Arthur. Were you late? Your pocket watch answered for you when you checked the face of it – 19:03. You were just on time.  

With a shrug, you assumed the others would be with you any moment, but the more than inviting bed called to your tired bones. May as well have a rest while you waited. You kicked your boots off and flopped back onto the bed, revelling in the supportive mattress and letting the bottoms of your legs dangle off the side while you observed the patterned swirls on the ceiling.  

The low hum of noise from downstairs and the slight whistle of wind through a gap in the window soothed you, and while you reminded yourself that you had to stay awake, you allowed your eyes to fall shut.  

Your relaxation was short-lived, the slamming open of the door startling you awake with a gasp. Instead of pulling your gun from its holster, your hand remained hovering over it when you sat up and found Arthur and Dutch laughing at your reaction. You grumbled indignantly. “You’re not funny.”  

Arthur snorted, shaking his head and closing the door behind him. “You agree with that, Dutch?”  

“Nope,” the man responded plainly, taking a step closer and hooking his thumbs over his gun belt.  

“Looks like you’re outnumbered, sorry darlin’.”  

With a defeated eye-roll, you lowered back down onto your elbows. The two of them observed you for a moment before Arthur broke the silence with an ever so slight strain in his voice.  

“You’re looking mighty comfortable there.”  

You looked either side of yourself to the bed and back to him. “Isn’t that the point?”  

“Too comfortable,” Arthur clarified, his voice low and almost sinister. “You’re making a habit o’ it.”  

You wrinkled your nose at him in confusion. If anything, you’d been the complete opposite with how tirelessly you’d worked in recent weeks to make yourself worthy of your spot in the gang. Deflated, at the prospect all you’d done wasn’t nearly enough, you breathed out a short breath. “What’s that supposed to mean? You saying I’ve been slacking off?”  

Arthur didn’t give anything away, instead raising his eyebrows at Dutch to clarify.  

“Quite the opposite,” he commented in an indifferent monotone. It was Dutch’s turn to receive your confused expression, allowing Arthur a moment to compose himself while your attention was elsewhere.  

To say Arthur was excited about Dutch’s plan was... an understatement.  

He’d hardly believed the proposition when it left his mentor’s lips. At first, he thought it was a joke, some harsh gimmick you and him had cooked up to embarrass Arthur into admitting he wanted you in that way. Because admission was all it was, no persuasion was necessary given the number of times Arthur had tugged on himself with eyes screwed tight and gritted teeth as he fought back any audible sound that could let onto what he was up to in the confines of his tent. He’d wanted to experience you in that way from the moment he’d met you. In truth, he loved your asserted and self-assured manner and he did have a great deal of respect for you for not bowing to any of the boys; not even Dutch.  

But when the man himself suggested it, putting the image of you in Arthur’s head doing exactly that – on your knees for him, shedding your clothes for him, opening your legs for him...  

Well, it was all he’d damn well thought about since.  

Dutch’s reasoning hadn’t helped. Teach her a lesson and remind her who’s in charge and but make her pleasure our top priority had all but circled Arthur’s mind like some sort of chant since he’d uttered them in a hushed voice by the light of the campfire one night when everyone else was asleep. Dutch always did have a talent for painting a pretty picture, and he’d made this scenario into a masterpiece.  

Then, Dutch began to move and broke Arthur out of his impending stupor. He rounded the bed, prompting you to shuffle your legs onto it and back a little so you were no longer sideways. Knees bent, but still propped up on your elbows, you watched as he all but prowled to be stood at the foot of the bed and stopped, chuckling gently. It didn’t lessen your building unease with the situation.  

But Dutch’s face was soft, kind almost, his expression reminding you of a proud one but that wasn’t quite the best description - you couldn’t put a pin on it but you remained hopeful that it was borne from a genuine place. He shook his head slightly. “We’re going to fix our little problem on this job today.”  

Problem? “Problem? I – I wasn’t aware we had a problem... sir.”  

The way Dutch’s eyes lit up at the end of your sentence didn’t go unnoticed by you. The corner of his lip tugged slightly and he nodded again. “That is much better.”  

“Better?” you turned to face Arthur, seemingly frozen in his spot and thawed by your gaze, mobilising to join Dutch’s side at the end of the bed and mentally shaking off his rapidly expanding imagination to resume his persona of hardened outlaw.   

Neither of them answered you, and as the gentle thrum of your pulse picked up beneath your skin you darted your gaze between them.   

“She looks like a little deer,” Arthur observed and Dutch hummed in agreement. His hands drifted to his gun belt and a brief flash of fear struck you but was soon numbed by the click of his buckle which preceded the soft brush of leather as it slid out of the fasten. He held the gun belt away from his hips in one hand before letting it drop to the floor, and despite your knowledge of the sound it’d make the thunk of it hitting the wood made your shoulders tense.  

“I do love those doe eyes,” he said and Arthur took it as his cue to remove his own gun belt, which he did with admittedly more haste. “Don’t you, Arthur?”  

“I’ll be honest Dutch,” Arthur huffed a chuckle, “it’s not her eyes I’m thinkin’ about.”  

A quiet warning side-eye from Dutch simmered Arthur down somewhat, who cleared his throat while the tension built in your face. “Why are you talking about me like I’m not sat right here? Can one of you please explain what this is all about? You’re making me feel very... unnerved.”  

“The problem,” Dutch began diplomatically, posture relaxed yet solid, “is that you’ve been forgetting the chain of command recently.”   

You weren’t enjoying this game. You’d come here for the job, waited while they were late and damn them if they weren’t going to let you prove yourself and instead act like you’re some lazy leech. Thoroughly sick of their recent affliction for ganging up on you, and in your opinion an unfair view on your contribution to the gang, you shuffled forward and pushed up to stand between the two of them. You’d never cast much thought to how tall they both were until this moment. “Whatever you say. Can we just get on with the job?”  

Dutch smirked, pleased, and placed a hand on your shoulder. “If that’s what your heart desires, then by all means.”  

The pressure from his palm increased and you looked at it and then back to him, brow scrunched in questioning.  

“Sit,” he commanded softly, lips remaining parted around the word, and you did so hesitantly.   

“Why are you both acting strange?” your voice came out quiet and you felt small at that moment; them being dangerous men was a fact you often forgot. Dutch seemed to notice. Arthur was too busy anticipating what was to come.  

“Relax.”  

It wasn’t much, but you took it. Perhaps you weren’t in trouble, but you did know that doing what was asked of you would lead to clarity eventually. So, you shuffled back and leaned down onto your forearms once more.  

“Are you going to tell me what the plan is, then?”  

The creases in the corners of both their eyes deepened, a wave of excitement washing over their faces. “Oh,” Dutch chuckled. “We’ve got a big plan for you.”  

He leaned forward, running his index finger from your outer ankle and up the side of your calf, watching the motion with intent before flicking his eyes up to you.  

Oh.  

Were you dreaming? Unlike all the previous signs, you couldn’t ignore this one. The gentleness of touch almost had you thinking twice about the man’s... men’s motive with you, that perhaps it was all in your head. Perhaps.  

You didn’t dare look at the contact the two of you shared and instead held Dutch's gaze, not entirely sure how you would deal with it if they were making a pass at you. Just as you’d formulated enough excuses for their behaviour and plucked up the courage to speak, Arthur chuckled to himself darkly.  

“Two of ‘em, actually.”  

Your attention snapped to the younger man, his eyes not meeting yours and instead scanning your body laid out in front of him. Nerves building, you gulped minimally. “What... Plan are you talking about?”  

A devilish grin grew on Arthur’s face as though he’d been itching for you to ask that very question. The hand resting loosely on his belt journeyed to his crotch and grasped his growing bulge, your eyes widening as he shunted it for effect.  

Dutch’s own eyes rolled at the display and he stood, dropping his arm at his side. “You can be rather crude sometimes, Arthur.”  

“Watchu mean?” he scoffed with a boyish grin.  

Gesturing to you, Dutch raised his eyebrows. “Ain’t no way to behave around a lady.”  

You were about to agree when Arthur tsked through his teeth. “Won’t be much of a lady once we’re finished with her.”  

“Hey,” you scrambled backwards and sat up, holding your hands in surrender. “I don’t know what is going on here, but if you think for one second I’m going to lay with you both you’ve got another thing coming.”  

“Ah,” rumbled Dutch, an amused smile growing on his face. “The lady doth protest.”  

“Is that really why you brought me here? So you could use me for some -”  

“Now, now,” Dutch brought his hands up, clearly attempting to add some seriousness to his act. “You’ve got the wrong idea.”  

“That so?” you countered, crossing your arms in defiance. “Seems to me like I’ve got a perfect handle on this situation.”  

“No, not at all. In fact -”  

Arthur’s bored sigh interrupted Dutch’s sentence and he pointedly pulled his boots off one by one before putting a knee on the bed and not stopping until you had to lie back and he was hovering over you, an arm on either side of your head.  

You widened your eyes in alarm, trying to think of something to say but for the first time in a while you were coming up empty. You weren’t scared of them, of what they were up to, and that was the worst thing about it. However silly it was, bracketed in by Arthur you felt entirely safe. In fact, a large part of you was... curious. If they were here to be intimate with you, which wasn’t something you could deny to be the case any longer, you weren’t sure you’d have it in you to say no. The prospect of taking them both was nothing short of exhilarating.   

“Darlin’,” Arthur cooed softly, his index finger and thumb coming to rest on your chin and tilted your head up to meet his gaze which searched your face before landing on your eyes. He angled his head and offered you a warm smile. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya. Way I see it, you can let old Dutch drone on about what his plan is,” you didn’t miss Dutch’s huff in the background, but Arthur’s lips coming down so close to your neck that you could feel his warm breath began to tune out everything that wasn’t him, “or you can just let us show ya.”  

He paused, not following through with his words just yet but you’d involuntarily bared your neck to him, clearing your throat when you realised what a precarious situation you’d gotten yourself into. “Arthur, I -”  

Arthur groaned, cutting you off and running his thumb back and forth on the side of your chin. “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to hear my name come out your mouth all breathy like that.” He dropped his forehead to rest on your shoulder, angling slightly so his nose fit in the contour of the crook of your neck.   

“Arthur,” Dutch warned sternly, and he unwillingly let go of your chin and sat back on his haunches.   

“You’re jus’ mad I’m the one that seduced her an’ not you,” Arthur tutted, eyes not leaving your flushed face with a ghost of a proud smile fading onto his.   

“I’m not playing your games right now, Arthur,” Dutch countered, mainly irritated at the grain of truth held in Arthur’s accusation. “But... perhaps you’re right.”  

Arthur registered Dutch’s words a beat later, cockily raising his eyebrows to turn and smile at the man with a glint in his eye. “I didn’t quite catch that – you're saying I’m right?” Arthur huffed an incredulous laugh, “and you’re wrong?”  

Dutch tensed his jaw, rolling his shoulders back before clapping a hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “I have no problem admitting my wrongdoings,” you suppressed a mocking snicker, “in fact, I think I may have the wrong idea about this whole plan in the first place. Perhaps our little miss here has learnt by example, since you appear to have forgotten the chain of command too, son.”  

At Arthur’s scowl, Dutch lowered down slightly to level their gazes. “I am perfectly capable of carrying out this particular job myself,” he flicked his eyes to you briefly and licked his bottom lip before looking back at Arthur, “in fact, I’d be more than happy to have her to myself. Is that something you want?”  

“No, Dutch,” Arthur grumbled and Dutch’s expression softened into an accomplished one while you looked between them, bewildered.  

“You forget, Dutch, that I haven’t agreed to sleep with either of you,” you scoffed, with the intent that if you could convince them you didn’t want it, you could convince yourself too.  

As though reading your mind, Dutch tilted his head down to look at you. For once, he allowed the silence to speak for him.  

“Besides,” you broke under the tense air far too soon, “I don’t even know why you’re trying to seduce me in the first place.”  

“Well,” Dutch began, removing his hand from Arthur’s shoulder, “I was trying to explain earlier.” He pondered his next sentence, a sly smile growing on his face. He removed his hat, placing it nearly on a table by the window and pushed his pomaded hair back. “But,” his already low voice lowered further, “I reckon we should compromise; do a little show and tell.”  

You looked to a listening Arthur and back to Dutch, who slowly walked round to the side of the bed and sat on the edge of it beside you, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. His warm, calloused fingertips almost made you forget yourself and it was an effort not to lean into his hand.  

“I don’t think you realise how much I value you, darlin’,” Dutch returned his hand to himself and you blinked owlishly at his change of tone. “Your hard work hasn’t gone unnoticed; I know we need the money but life is not all about work. Sometimes... it’s about play, too,” he smirked, his voice evenly laced with sincerity and seduction. “So, me and Arthur here,” Dutch’s hand crept onto your thigh, firmly holding the flesh, “have decided to give you a hand or two with some well-deserved relaxin’, while thanking you for said efforts.”  

With Arthur watching Dutch’s hand with intent, you felt like a grand prize on display with the lust-filled expressions on the faces of these two men. The thought of them desiring you, discussing you, sharing you...  

“But,” Dutch’s tone sharpened and he squeezed your thigh, bringing his face closer to yours, “what we do not appreciate is you forgetting your role.” At your narrowed brow, Dutch elaborated. “You are well aware of the hierarchy, miss.”  

“It’s just that -”  

“I know,” Dutch interrupted softly. “You want to help. Be that as it may, that does not put you above me, nor does it put you above Arthur.”  

It was a fair comment. Maybe you had been a little bossy recently, but they at least seemed to understand the intent behind your actions. What wasn’t clear was the relation that had to the current circumstance. “Why does that matter with this, though?”  

The two men shared a knowing glance and looked back to you. “Oh darlin',” chuckled Arthur.  

“What?”  

“While we’re here for you, you are also here for us. We’d like to get what we’re owed from you.”  

At the sight of these two men looming over you, predatory looks tainting their eyes, something inside you weakened and you shifted minimally on the bed. It was enough of a tell for them and they smirked in unison, the bastards; they knew exactly what feeling had just shot through you.  

“What do you think, Arthur?” Dutch teased.  

“I think she wants it.”  

They looked at you expectantly and Dutch raised a quizzical brow. He leaned in, skirting around to your jaw and pressing his lips against it. “You know how persuasive I can be,” he murmured before placing another peck.  

The light tingling sensation pricking the surface of your skin began to seep deeper, your pulse thrumming with arousal and you could no longer pick out an excuse not to go through with it. The building hunger in Arthur’s eyes and Dutch’s moustache tickling your face eviscerated your final straw.  

You turned your head to capture Dutch’s lips with yours, feeling him smirk at your eagerness and tenderly kiss you back twice until a cold brush of air took their place. Opening your eyes, you were met with him pulling away and you frowned, leaning in once more and he placed his index finger over your mouth.  

“Tell me who’s in charge,” he purred, but didn’t give you room to answer as the tip of his finger pressed down and you opened your mouth to allow him in, sucking gently and feeling set alight by how he bit down on his bottom lip. A faint taste of gunmetal and tobacco transferred onto your tongue and he lewdly pushed his finger in and out, stopping once he’d created a rhythm and pulling his now shining finger from your mouth. He used it to tip your chin up, marvelling at your undone and half-lidded gaze.  

“Tell me,” he commanded softly.  

“You are, Dutch.”  

“And then?”  

“Then,” you glanced to a smug-looking Arthur, who was using every inch of his willpower not to pounce on you, and rolled your eyes. “Arthur.”  

“I don’t think I like her attitude, Dutch.”  

“Me neither.”  

“Fine, sorry. Then Arth -”  

Dutch let go of your chin and held up his hand, silencing you. “Too late now. I was going to start off by asking dear old Arthur here to pleasure you with his mouth as a reward for your hard work, but looks like we’ll have to get the brat out of you first.” At your questioning frown, Dutch brushed a hand over your hair lovingly and down your face until his thumb landed on the pad of your bottom lip, pulling it apart from your top one. “Use this pretty mouth of yours on him, instead.”  

You could practically hear Arthur’s buzz of excitement at Dutch’s words, the younger man unable to sit still on the bed.  

“And what are you going to do?” you asked Dutch, noticing the growing hardness in his pants in your peripheral vision.  

Dutch smirked, pleased that you were concerning yourself with his part in all this, and pulled out the cigar that was weighing down his pocket and held it up for you to see. “I’m going to enjoy this, while I enjoy,” he looked between you and Arthur, “this.”

With that, Dutch stood and turned, making his way to the comfortable chair in the corner of the room and you turned your head to look at a grinning Arthur.  

“You aren’t ever going to let me live this down, are you,” you scoffed and his grin widened.  

“If I have my way, darlin’, this won’t be a one-time thing,” he adjusted his crotch absent-mindedly, unable to stop his wandering eyes and leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek, “least not between us.”  

“Less of that, Arthur,” Dutch warned gently, hands clasped on his lap and cigar not yet lit.   

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and your cheeks grew warm, further still with the subsequent kiss that was placed on your other one. “I’m gonna kiss you now, darlin’,” he whispered and nudged his nose against yours and you tilted your head up to reach him, your eyes fluttering closed as his warm lips pressed onto yours, his stubble scratching against your skin. It was surprising that he managed to be gentle considering his excitement for the situation, but even Arthur’s mind recognised this as your first kiss and wanted to savour some of the moment.  

He brought his hand to hold your face and yours found his waist in turn, the two of you edging your bodies closer and deepening the kiss. You sighed happily into it and felt his mouth open, allowing your tongue to cross the boundary with ease. The pad of Arthur’s thumb grazed your cheekbone as you continued to explore each other's mouths.  

“If I wanted to watch a romance I’d have gone to a picture house,” Dutch scoffed, you and Arthur pulling apart to give him a glance, his posture remained as it was previously, before smirking at each other. You glanced down, running a fingertip over the button on his pants and being thankful for the kissing as an excuse for the excess saliva that entered your mouth at the thought. “Suck his cock, sweet one.”  

When you pushed the button out through the hole, Arthur’s chest tensed in an attempt to calm his shortening breaths and you glanced up at him through your lashes.  

“Stand up for me, cowboy,” you cooed, deciding against teasing him for the blush that spread on his cheeks and nose. He did so, but quickly rolled his shoulders back and cleared his throat as he reminded himself why this was all happening in the first place.  

“Was gonna do that anyway,” he mumbled, “not doin’ it ‘cause you asked me to.”  

Dutch’s mocking chuckle was quiet and Arthur shot him a glare as you suppressed your own laughter, moving to kneel on the bed while pulling his work pants halfway down. You eyed the bulge of Arthur’s hard cock and the small dab of precum showing through his union suit, gently running your hand over him and feeling your confidence growing at his even shorter breaths.  

After caressing him for a moment, reminding your imagination not to get too ahead of itself at the thought of him inside you, you began undoing buttons to free him from its confines. Once his cock sprang free you glanced up at him, offering a coy smile at the almost-painful display of restraint on his face. You licked your palm, finding a good use for that excess saliva, and grasped him. You intently watched the pleasure grow on his face and offered a few slow pumps of his shaft until he managed to open his eyes and look down at you, a hand finding its way into your hair to move the strands away from your face.  

You leaned forward, kissing the side of him and the sound of want from his throat warned you off teasing him further, bringing your tongue out to run along a particularly prominent vein until reaching the head, pausing there to get a taste of his precum. The strike of a match made you pull off, looking over to Dutch who took a drag of his cigar and held his hand up in a carry-on gesture.  

You obeyed, returning your attention to Arthur’s cock and closing your mouth around the end, to which his fingertips tensed on your scalp – urging you to take him further in. Well, since he was the one ‘in charge’ you could hardly say no. With your hand on his thigh for stability, you took him halfway in and felt sparks in your core at Arthur’s moan in relief, his head tilting upwards while he thanked whatever powers existed that brought him to this moment.  

“Oh, that’s it sweetheart,” he sighed breathily, risking a glance down at you with your mouth full of him and biting his tongue at how quickly the sight edged him to the brink.   

The unravelling of Arthur Morgan spurred you on while you tasted his most intimate part, bringing your head back and forth in time with the small but restrained thrusts of his hips. His hand stilled in your hair as his shoulders dropped at what you assumed was one of the few times he really had the opportunity to let go; despite his boyish insistence on being hard-faced and stoic, his deeply caring nature urged him to overwork himself at every opportunity. His physical relaxation was as close as you expected to get to the truth about his constant underlying fatigue and worry, and you took it upon yourself to let him enjoy you as he deserved.  

Relaxing the back of your throat, you hollowed out your cheeks and prepared to take him all the way in, moving your head forward as your wet lips ventured further down his shaft until your nose nestled into his light brown hairs. A snippet of a higher moan than what you’d heard previous escaped Arthur’s clamped-shut lips, and you brushed your palms up and down the back of his thighs to keep him relaxed and soothe him. Breathing heavy, both of his hands held the side of your head and he looked at you with apprehension. You managed a small nod, allowing him to do as he pleased.  

Anchored to you, he slid out and back in, out and in, out and in, each time nudging the back of your throat and you pushed through the urge to pull off; the noises of want coming from him far outweighing your desire for comfort. He increased his pace, losing himself in the sensation of your warm mouth wrapped around him and then suddenly pulled out, squeezing the base of his cock and you pouted up at him.  

“Shit,” he muttered, attempting to calm his rapid breaths. “I don’t want to finish yet.”  

Dutch chuckled and stood, setting his still-lit cigar on the bedside table before walking leisurely over and kneeling behind you on the bed. “This is why you go for a proper man, darlin’,” he murmured in your ear and ran his fingertips up your flank. “Not a youngster who wets his pants every five minutes.”  

“You’re just a jealous old man who’s bitterly passed his prime, Dutch,” Arthur shot back, blinking up at the ceiling and thinking of anything that would keep his orgasm at bay.  

Fingertips pressing into your hips, Dutch kissed the side of your neck and sighed with arousal, hot breath landing on your skin. He pulled you into him so your back met his front and you felt his arousal too, thick and hard as it pressed into you and keened at the thought, fluttering your eyes closed and baring your neck to give him better access.  

“Let us take care of you,” he purred, clearing his throat and huffing a small laugh through his nose. “Sweetheart.”  

You smirked, but decided to come to Arthur’s defence when the man tutted and glared at Dutch. “I think it’s nice.” Arthur tensed his jaw, unable to stop the heat burning in his body as he watched you grow weak in Dutch’s arms with the man’s hands gently stroking your sides and stomach.  

Dutch hummed indifferently, breathing in the scent of your skin as it too grew hot. “I don’t think you want nice.”  

“W-What makes you think that?” you breathed, bringing your hands over his as they settled on your lower abdomen.  

You felt his smirk against your skin as you relaxed back into his warmth, fully seduced and content. “You’re with two wanted outlaws who have a single desire of fucking you,” Dutch lamented, “and you appear to be right at home.”  

A small chuckle sounded in your throat, transmuting into a quiet whine when Dutch’s talented hands slid further down to your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your skirt.  

“That’s it,” he whispered softly against the shell of your ear. Then his hands were gone and he shifted behind you and the faint burning of tobacco sounded as he took a deep drag, chest puffing out and nudging your back. Dutch brushed his hand over your shoulder and to your chin, taking it in a firm grip and tilting your head back to look at him. He leaned in and kissed you, releasing the smoke into your mouth as he did. You coughed slightly in surprise but his grip remained firm, holding your face to his. Eventually, you breathed the second-hand smoke in from his mouth and relaxed some, and once Dutch was satisfied with your pliancy, he pulled away from you, pushing the underside of your chin to keep your mouth shut. He smiled proudly and took another long drag, this time blowing the smoke up into the air.  

You watched as it rose and faded while your throat burned, Dutch humming a laugh at your hazy expression and stubbing the cigar out to free his hands up so he could touch you. “Oh, my girl,” he began, palms snaking around your waist to nestle your form into his chest and placing a chaste kiss on your cheekbone while the smoke escaped your nose, “we are going to have some fun with you.”  

Arthur stood in front of you, frankly feeling left out now that he’d calmed himself down, and placed his hands on his hips. “I think it’s time for us to explore this body of yours, miss,” he smirked down at you cheekily, cocking his head to the side and you blushed with a nod of agreement.  

“Sit back for us,” said Dutch as he shifted away to allow you to move. Turning your body, you lay back on the bed with your head resting on the soft pillow and blinked up at him, more than happy to play your part.  

“Like this?”  

“Just like that.” Dutch glanced to Arthur who knelt on your other side and they seemed to communicate through gaze alone, a honed practice through years of riding together, and Arthur’s attention turned to your patient body while Dutch moved off the bed to walk around and sit at the end, loosening his collar as he went.  

Arthur propped himself up on his forearm and leaned over you, blocking your view of Dutch but you could feel him start to get to work undressing you by loosening your skirt. Arthur’s breath came down hot on your skin as he touched his nose to yours. He kissed you once, then began littering your jaw and neck with more pecks and sucks as Dutch pulled at the fabric of your skirt and you lifted your hips to allow the garment to slide off. Arthur flicked his tongue out over your collarbone and you sighed happily, twirling the end of his overgrown hair around your index finger. He began to unbutton your shirt with one hand, impressing you with his multitasking ability and when it opened you shifted your torso up so he could reveal your arms and discard the shirt to the floor.  

Broad hands ran up your thighs, kisses pressed to the inside of your knee, making a path upwards as Arthur’s made a path downwards to the top of your breasts. He admired the soft flesh poking out and undid the stay at your waist, discarding it so he could view the natural form that resided beneath. His palm ran up and stopped just beneath your breast, the cocky outlaw’s own clothes feeling far too tight and restrictive given the current situation. He persevered, looking at you with eyes glinting as the corners of his mouth tilted upwards. The eye contact remained as he lowered his head and you watched him kiss the middle of your chest through the fabric. His hand arrived at its destination, and you moaned gently as he squeezed the flesh like he’d been waiting to do so all day.  

Dutch took his opportunity as your knees relaxed and your legs opened for him, exposing the damp patch between your legs where your garment stuck to your skin. The traced outline of your pussy sent a pulse through his cock and he brought a hand to his bulge in an attempt to extend his patience. You would be worth the wait.  

His restraint only went so far, and it seemed to be a shared experience between the men as Arthur’s tongue teased your hardening nipple, wetting the fabric with his saliva, and Dutch brushed a knuckle over the patch, eliciting a full-body shiver from you.  

Arthur hummed his amusement around the nipple he’d sucked into his mouth as Dutch made himself comfortable with his face at the perfect height to observe your most precious part. “Shit, Arthur,” he swallowed, mirth laced into his tone, “our girl really is enjoying this.”  

Embarrassment washed over you briefly and your legs threatened to close, but Dutch’s palms held them firmly open. “No no, you keep this on display for me.” One hand journeyed up your leg until his thumb could run over the damp cotton and subsequently apply pressure to you, and the other came to hold your hip while his forearms kept your legs clamped to the bed. Arthur released you to get a look for himself, biting down on his lip at the thought of you all wet through your pants. “Goddamn,” he marvelled then turned back to you, “you do surprise me.” At your scowl, he offered you a genuine smile and shifted up to plant a kiss on your lips. “You’re such a sweet girl,” he murmured against them, “just be sweet to us. You don’t need no barriers up here.”  

As his honeyed words had their desired effect of softening you some, Dutch’s tongue pressed expertly against your slit and wettened the fabric further as it slid down, his lips subsequently closing around the region of your clit and getting his first taste of you. You moaned into Arthur’s mouth as he kissed you again and your palms flew to the sides of his neck to use him as support lest you fly right off the bed.  

Dutch sucked gently, the fabric becoming almost see-through as Arthur chuckled at your responsiveness, resuming his appraisal of your breasts. He took one in each hand, kneading them and kissing around both nipples until he could no longer wait to see you in all your glory, Dutch sharing the thought.   

Both men paused, at an impasse thanks to your full-bodied undergarment. They looked at each other and then to you and you chuckled smugly, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you caught your breath. “Don’t look at me, I’m not the one in charge here.”  

Arthur tutted fondly and Dutch gave you a daring look. He leaned to the side, picking something up off the floor though you couldn’t see what. “Arthur,” he commanded, throwing a hunting knife to him that he thankfully caught, “get this thing off her.”  

“I don’t think so.” You brought your hands to your chest as Arthur twirled the knife around his fingers.  

“We’ll get you another,” Dutch promised, nodding to Arthur to continue. Arthur smiled at you, up for the challenge, taking each wrist in his hands and pinning them above your head. “You gonna be a good girl and keep these here?”  

You bit down on your lip and nodded, feeling delightfully powerless under Arthur’s strong grip as his eyes blew wide with lust and excitement. He waited there a beat, daring you to try and disobey and looking pleased when he removed his hands and yours remained in position. He took the knife and placed the tip at your belly button, sliding the blade up until the fabric was ruined and your breasts revealed. He licked his lips hungrily, unable to tear his eyes away as he passed the knife down to Dutch before nodding at your arms to come back down so he could relieve you completely. As you complied, the knife clattered to the floor and you looked down in time to see Dutch with a hand on either side of the incision, pointedly ripping open the rest and you jolted slightly at the sound and the cold air meeting your wetness.  

Without needing to be asked, you lifted your hips for Dutch to pull the rest of your garment off and discard that to the floor, leaving you completely bare.   

The atmosphere shifted. The men’s eyes drank in your body, minds running wild with their plans for marking and claiming it as their own. They were silenced as though in the presence of a divine deity, palpable long-awaited tension seeping all around you and filled with desire thanks to these two men that emanated it.  

All at the sight of you.  

Something about it felt right, despite how wrong it was. It was absurd, really, but you decided to milk the situation for all it was worth. You took a breath to expand your chest for Arthur and widened your legs for Dutch, smiling wickedly at the pair of them. “I’m starting to question who’s really in charge here.”  

Dutch’s nose twitched with irritation as he narrowed his eyes at you and then honed in on the space between your legs. “Shut the brat up, Arthur.”  

A lot happened all at once after Arthur muttered “with pleasure.” Teeth bit down on your nipple, a hand pressing onto your flank to keep you still and another over your mouth, and a tongue swiped up your slit, tearing a moan so lewd it took you a moment for you to register that you were the one that made it. The sound alone, even while muffled through Arthur’s palm, was enough to ignite the primal desire of the two men enjoying your body, Dutch licking up everything your cunt had to offer and Arthur adding more small bruises and bite marks to the collection growing on your chest.  

You writhed under the sensation, channelling it into your hips and bucking into Dutch’s mouth as the wet pad of his tongue entered you, lapping up your juices and soaking his moustache. Arthur’s grip on your breasts increased, verging on painful but he soothed you by licking up your cleavage and not stopping until he reached your ear, sucking on your lobe and growling as you gasped, arching up to him and grasping at his sides.  

He took your wrists in his hands and pinned you once more, taking a moment to admire you in this state and once his gaze landed on your lips, he didn’t hesitate in pressing his against them and initiating a sloppy kiss, both of your accumulated saliva mingling as your tongues circled each other. Meanwhile, Dutch’s tongue continued to tend to your... other lips.  

It continued to fuck your cunt, and you briefly wondered how much his jaw must be hurting but your attention soon turned back to Arthur who nipped at your bottom lip, noticing your thoughts drifting away from him.  

Lost in his wet kisses for some time, you broke away and jolted when something wet pressed against your other hole, one that as far as you were concerned should not be included in this.   

“Dutch!” you yelped, glaring down at the man who flicked his eyes up to meet you, looking hazy and drunk, lost on what resided between your legs. A sly smile grew on his face, and his tongue repeated its earlier motion, circling the ring of muscle between your cheeks while confidently retaining eye contact.  

“What,” you yelped again, trying to wriggle backwards out of pure embarrassment and you ignored Arthur’s chuckle, “the hell are you doing?”  

He sighed, taking his mouth off you entirely and the air felt cooler thanks to all of his spit mixed in with your slick, which wasn’t much thanks to Dutch greedily drinking it up, that encompassed the entirety of your nether regions. “Darlin’,” he began, almost sounding as though he was trying to comfort you as he held the sides of your thighs in his hands. “How else do you plan on having two men fuck you?” at your bewildered expression, he continued and Arthur waited patiently, allowing himself to continue fondling your breast and you tried to not focus on the sensation as he rolled your nipple between his fingers. “You’ve got two holes, and we’ve got two cocks,” Dutch said plainly.  

“But –” you cleared your throat, “won’t that hurt?”  

Dutch smiled, kissing the inside of your thigh and Arthur’s hand came to your jaw, guiding your gaze over to him. His expression was amused but slightly softened which soothed your concern somewhat. “Not if Dutch relaxes you, which is what he’s trying to do right now.”  

You looked back to Dutch who raised his brows in agreement, and you pouted with no further excuses coming to mind. The idea intrigued you, but it was still new and strange. Though, something about the two of them fucking into you sent your mind into a tizzy...  

“What I’d give to read those thoughts right now,” Dutch hummed, moving the tip of his index finger onto your clit to lazily rub over it, gently keeping you stimulated. Once again, you relaxed under his touch. “Trust in me, darlin’. I know what I’m doing.”  

Still, your mind whirled with intrigue and uncertainty. “What about -”  

“Arthur,” Dutch commanded with the man’s name alone, who proceeded to silence your array of questions with the crash of his lips into yours. Neither man seemed to want to give you time to ask them, more intent on showing as it was previously decided, both of their tongues working in tandem and when Dutch’s made its way south again you lost all trails of thought.  

His finger slipped into your cunt, slowly and gently fucking you and soon adding a second at your body’s willingness to partake. Your walls clenched around him, the cold metal of his ring nudging your skin every time he thrust his fingers in. He curled them upwards, gently testing how aroused you were and your toes curled in response at the pressure on that spot inside you, Dutch watching with infatuation as you took in his soaked fingers.   

His thumb slid down, pressing onto your hole and you couldn’t help but squirm again. It moved off, and when it returned there was a cool substance there, almost like jelly. “It’ll help,” Dutch murmured when he noticed your expression and circled it around, toying with the pressure and on the next thrust in of his fingers he attempted to penetrate your ass with his thumb, but your thighs tensed at the intrusion.  

“Arthur,” Dutch said, breaking the man out of his hazy obsession with your breasts. “I’m gonna need you down here to help her relax.”  

Arthur glanced at you and you offered him a short nod, apprehensive at how it would feel but knowing you were still willing to try. He trailed kisses down your stomach, pulling your lips apart to get a look at you and groaning at the site. He drew the tip of his finger down the line of your slit, slowly collecting your juices and coming back up again. Your torso relaxed and you dropped your head back, Dutch’s fingers pulling out so Arthur’s could slide in. Dutch opted for using his tongue once more, drawing over your hole with his tongue flat, and Arthur took some inspiration, bringing his mouth down on your pussy to gently suck on your clit.   

“Oh... my god,” you breathed, both of their tongues working to build up your pleasure and you grasped at the sheets and widened your legs as much as you could.   

“You like that, darlin’?” asked Dutch, muffled thanks to his current position.  

“Mhm,” was all you could respond with, and Arthur doubled down on his efforts, lapping at your cunt while Dutch slid a finger into your ass. It was a different kind of feeling, but you didn’t have the urge to wriggle away this time.  

“That’s it,” Dutch cooed, “lean into that feelin’.”  

And you did. You moved your hips in time with his motions, feeling yourself relax with Arthur diligently tending to you with his tongue. Your body throbbed, arousal coming through you in waves but you still needed more, one taste being more than enough to make you greedy. “More,” you whispered, and within moments Dutch slowly pushed a second finger in to join the first.  

This time it felt like more of a stretch, thankfully not painful but enough that you actively had to focus your mind on the pleasure, breathing steadily and fighting against the urge to close your legs. They continued, each lick and thrust bringing you closer to the brink and you moaned, bringing your hands to grip Arthur’s head as he sucked on just the right spot.   

“Arthur, I’m gonna -” you warned, and the man groaned like he was eating his favourite meal.  

“I wanna taste you, come on,” he said, barely taking his mouth off you to speak and relishing in being held down to your pussy like this. Dutch took the opportunity to add a third finger, not wanting to hurt you when the time came for him to use his cock, and the fullness along with the attention on your clit made your legs shake and you pushed your hips up, a silent moan punctuated with a stuck breath as you tensed, your orgasm washing through your body as Arthur drank up all you had to give him.  

The motion of Dutch’s thrusts slowed but his fingers remained sheathed, and Arthur’s vigorous licking and sucking turned to light kisses as you sunk into the bed. The two men looked up to observe you and you chuckled breathlessly at their flushed faces. “That was...”  

“Delightful,” Arthur finished, wiping his mouth on his sleeve and moving up the bed to lie beside you, pressing his lips to yours to give you a taste of yourself. At the same time, Dutch’s fingers left you and he littered your inner thighs with small pecks.   

“We ain’t half done yet,” Dutch informed you, and Arthur brushed a strand of hair from your forehead that was stuck there thanks to the sweat.  

“You’ve got more in ya, ain’t you darlin’?” he asked lowly, watching your chest in raptures as it rose and fell with your slowing breaths. “I know you got more for us.”  

You nodded and opened your eyes to the sight of Dutch making his way to his feet, unbuttoning his pants and revealing a peak at the base of his cock. He appeared to think twice, moving around the bed and tapping your shoulder for you to sit up. You frowned at him.  

“I’ve been dying to get into that sweet pussy of yours. Plus, I think Arthur would be happy to taste you again,” he nodded to the man, who raised his eyebrows in agreement.  

“It’s not that.”  

“Then what is it?”  

“I’m naked.”  

“You only just realisin’?” Arthur chuckled and you rolled your eyes.  

“You’re both still fully dressed!”  

Arthur shrugged at Dutch. “The lady has a point.”  

“Fair is fair,” Dutch hummed, unbuttoning his shirt as Arthur pulled his over his head. You smiled, looking between them as various bits of flesh were revealed, and while Arthur kept his pants on, Dutch shunted his down and stepped out of them, revealing his frustrated-looking cock. He settled his hands on his hips while you looked him up and down, almost salivating at the sight of this usually well-put-together man as bare as the day is long. He hummed a laugh and cupped your chin, forcing your gaze up to his eyes. “You are a precious little thing.”  

He then tapped your shoulder again and you sat up, allowing him to swing a leg over and pull you up into his chest, wiry black hairs tickling your back. His palms slid around your stomach and he planted a kiss on your shoulder. “A precious little thing that we are going to ruin.”  

Arthur crossed his arms, kneeling on the bed between your legs and looking crassly at Dutch. “Thought we couldn’t talk like that because she’s a lady?”  

You turned your head to raise your eyebrows at Dutch smugly, who mirrored your expression.  

“Do you forget where my tongue has just been, miss?”  

Pressing your lips together, you shrunk in on yourself but it only nestled you further into Dutch.  

“That’s what I thought. Now if you wouldn’t mind -” his hands ran down to your inner thighs, spreading you open much to Arthur’s delight, “you’re going to let us use you like a good little girl.”  

Hearing Dutch talk to you like this was... different. You were so used to giving him a piece of your mind that you itched to do the same right now, except his words liquified your core and much to your dismay, you enjoyed being spoken to like this. It was filthy, he knew it, Arthur knew it, even the damn wardrobe knew it, but you could all relax under the mutual understanding you shared. Filthy was something you were all up for experiencing.  

So, you relaxed onto him, bringing a hand down to his cock and rubbing it against yourself, coating it with your own slick. You turned your head again to look over your shoulder at his tense and restrained expression, then pressed your lips to his jaw and took in the scent of arousal dripping off him in his sweat and smiled sweetly. “Your actions gonna match up to your words for once, Dutch?”  

Dutch’s gaze snapped to you and Arthur breathed out in disbelief, but you didn’t back down and instead just batted your eyelashes. His lips curled up into a sly smile and he caressed the side of your face, nudging your nose with his and leaning down, your eyes fluttering closed.  

He paused a centimetre from your lips, and instead of kissing you sweetly, he thrust his hips and penetrated you right to the hilt.  

A surprised choke left you and your head dropped back at the sudden intrusion, your walls tightening around him and your nails digging into his thighs. You opened your eyes to look at him when he held there, finding his jaw hard though his eyes twinkled down at you like you were his new favourite toy. "If you wanna act like a brat, we’ll treat you like one.”  

He slowly moved out and then repeated his motion, grunting as he did and Arthur remained kneeled, palming himself over his pants as he watched Dutch defile you. “You certainly are a brave one,” he nodded at Dutch, biting down on his tongue to restrain himself. “How she feel?”  

Dutch hummed contently, thrusting into you for good measure and the sound you made was music to his ears. “Warm, tight... just perfect. Like she was made for me.”  

Arthur smirked, his fingertips gliding up and down his clothed shaft and you glanced at him with half-lidded eyes, reaching a hand out. He slid his palm onto yours, but you pulled back and reached for his head. Arthur acquiesced to your desires, leaning forward to allow your fingers to grasp the back of his head and pull him down to where you ached.  

“What did I say about making demands?” Dutch murmured into your hair, his thrusts now at a more manageable pace.  

“Oh, he doesn’t mind,” you scoffed and Arthur paused, lying on his front and leaning on his elbows, glancing up from between your legs.  

“Actually, I do.”  

“What?”  

“Say it.”  

“Say what?”  

“Tell me what you want.”  

“I -” you faltered, Dutch stilling inside you and Arthur tilting his head expectantly. You swallowed, determined not to let them win this game. “I want your mouth on me, Arthur.”  

His eyes shifted behind you to Dutch, who cleared his throat.   

You sighed sharply, and with your arousal currently governing your thoughts, you decided to placate them so you could at least get what you wanted. “And I want you to fuck me, Dutch.”  

Arthur’s head moved down an inch, and you attempted to buck into his mouth but Dutch stopped you with his hands on your thighs. “Remember your manners, girl,” he whispered.  

“Please. Please... I need to come,” you sighed, resting your head back on Dutch’s chest.  

“Fuck,” Arthur muttered, promptly diving into your pussy with a languid stroke of his tongue through your folds. You keened, enough to make Dutch suck a breath through his teeth at the slight shift in angle. He dropped his hands to squeeze your ass, holding you in place and began fucking up into you.  

Dutch’s thick cock filling you felt divine, and coupled with Arthur’s talented tongue you hardly knew what to do with yourself, one hand in Arthur’s hair and one hand holding Dutch’s thigh as you attempted to brace yourself through all the sensations.   

“I’d have fucked you much sooner if I knew how well you took cock,” Dutch grunted into your hair and you whined, lolling your head to the side to nestle your face into his neck.  

“You f-feel so good,” you said through a punched-out breath and the man’s chest vibrated with an approving hum underneath you.  

“You like Arthur’s tongue, too?” he asked and you nodded weakly, already feeling overstimulated but too lost in the pleasure to care. “We treat you good, don’t we girl?”  

“Yes, Dutch, you -” your sentence broke into a moan, Dutch’s pace slowing as his hands snaked around your stomach. Arthur slowed his pace in turn, looking up at you from his place between your legs.  

“Alright, I want a turn with her now,” he stated and you shot him a hazy look, for him to give another teasing lick over your clit.  

“Hey,” you scoffed, “I’m not a toy.”  

“Tonight, my dear, that’s exactly what you are.” Dutch crooned, kissing your head while he gently fucked you. His lips lowered to your ear. “You like it though; I know you do.” You grumbled in reluctant agreement and Dutch chuckled, his hand stroking your jaw to look up at him, where his thumb placed over your lips. “I think I’ll fuck your mouth, now.”  

Blinking at him, you nodded and he kissed you gently, sitting up and making you sit up too. Arthur moved back on his knees, watching while he licked his lips. “Whatchu got in mind?”  

“Our girl is going to get on her hands and knees,” Dutch said lowly, brushing his lips down your neck, his moustache tickling your skin. “She’s going to let you stretch her pussy,” he bit down gently on your shoulder, “and she’s going to wrap her pretty mouth around my cock. Aren’t you?”  

You could only nod, Dutch’s voice going straight to your core and you wanted to please him, give him the same treatment you’d given Arthur.  

“I didn’t quite catch that.”  

“Yes, Dutch.”  

“What are you going to let us do?”  

“I - I’m going to let you use me.”  

“Good.” He put his hands on your shoulders and turned you round to face him and you knelt between his legs, for him to move up into a tall-kneeled position. Palms grasped your ankles and began to pull, so you shifted forward and used your hands to remain steady while Arthur placed you in the ideal position for him to fuck you.  

“You look good like this, girl,” Arthur praised, and you looked back at him with lust painted all over your face. He kept the eye contact, finally unbuttoning his pants and making a show of pulling them down and kicking them away, his erect cock stood proud and patient. His eyes glided to your dripping cunt presented to him, and he couldn’t resist giving himself a few pumps for your viewing pleasure in return. You moved your hips back to encourage him and he half-smiled, brushing his palms up your thighs to land on your hips.   

Dutch brought a hand into your scalp, righting your position to level your face with his cock. “Open,” he commanded, and you did so willingly.  

His cock circled your lips and you brought your tongue out, licking up his head and sampling yourself yet again. He tasted wonderful, musky like Arthur and your mouth watered at the thought. When you brought your head forward to close your mouth around him, his grip remained firm and you blinked up at him where he shook his head.  

He didn’t need to explain with words, instead just brought his hips forwards, sliding into your wet mouth to test how deep he could go. He went halfway in, then moved back out, then in again. You hollowed your cheeks and he moaned lowly, head tipping up slightly but eyes not leaving the sight of you.  

When Arthur pressed the tip of his cock to your pussy, your whine was muffled around Dutch and he grit his teeth at the vibration, while Arthur pushed into where Dutch had filled you moments previous.  

Arthur’s sigh of ecstasy sounded almost pained, and his fingertips dug into your hips as your walls fluttered around the new cock penetrating you. Dutch took turns watching Arthur fuck into you and watching you suck on his cock, turning half-delirious at all the visual stimulation. He started to think you might be his favourite asset of the gang, what with all your... assets.   

You brought a hand up to Dutch’s hip, stabilising yourself as his rough fucking of your face continued and you let your jaw go slack. Arthur angled his hips to go deeper and began pounding you, lewd slaps of his flesh filling the room. He lay a palm on your back as his other gripped your ass, moving you towards him slightly every time he thrust in.   

“You were right, Dutch,” he mused absentmindedly, “she feels fuckin’ perfect. Darlin’,” he breathed and you hummed despite your full mouth, “I could fuck you all day. So good, so fuckin’ -” Arthur huffed, tensing his jaw and becoming more addicted to you with each snap of his hips.   

Dutch let go of your head, the powerful thrusts from Arthur being more than enough movement as each one nudged his cock to the back of your throat. Spit spilt out the sides of your mouth, salty precum coating your tongue and the back of your throat. You slipped a hand in between Dutch’s legs to massage his heavy balls and Dutch hissed at the sensation, muttering “keep going” when you paused to check it was a good reaction.   

The head of Arthur’s cock brushed against the sensitive spot embedded in your walls when he rolled his hips and high-pitched moans sounded on repeat from your throat. “That’s it,” Arthur half-whispered, “come on my cock, wanna feel you – you -”  

Your back arched, the walls of your cunt repeatedly pulsating around Arthur’s thick length as you did just as he asked.  

“We still gonna...” Arthur mumbled, thrusts now deep and slow, though you were already way past the point of over-stimulation as you drifted down from your high.  

“Y-yeah,” Dutch slid his cock from your mouth, wiping the thick trail of spit that connected the two of you together from your lips. He gripped his hand around your neck and lifted your front up so your back pressed against Arthur’s muscular chest and abdomen, and you gasped at the alteration of position. Dutch pressed his torso into yours and stuck his tongue into your mouth, holding you in position while you grasped at his sides.  

He kissed you deep and passionately while Arthur kissed and nibbled on your neck, eventually using all his might to still his thrusts. Dutch relented too, panting and pressing his forehead against yours. “You think you can take us both now, sweet girl?”  

You nodded immediately, hoping to reach your peak for a third time and focused on Arthur’s calloused hands as they brushed up and down your flank. You wrapped your arms around Dutch’s neck, feeling as though you might fall if you didn’t use him for support.  

“Make me proud, darlin’,” he cooed, giving you a final kiss and nodding at Arthur to switch positions. Dutch held you up as Arthur slid out, moving around to sit beside Dutch and hold you against him while Dutch moved to kneel behind you.  

“You want it, pretty girl? Want both of us to fuck you at the same time?” Arthur asked as you moved to straddle him, his cock leaking and desperate for more as it lay flat on his stomach.   

You brought a hand up to caress his stubble, and he looked almost sweet with his red cheeks and those shining blue eyes looking up at you like you were some sort of angel. To him, you were, glowing from the sheen of sweat covering your body as you sat above him, entirely lost on chasing your pleasure as you smiled down at him. “Don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything so much in my life,” you huffed dreamily.  

“That’s our girl,” Dutch said, giving your ass a smack and kissing your shoulder, Arthur biting down on his lip as he continued to stare at your body. “Think you can wait a little longer, Arthur?”  

“Sure,” he nodded reluctantly, understanding it may not be the best idea for Dutch to enter you while he was already sheathed. That didn’t mean he couldn’t touch you, though, and ushered you forward a little so your breast was in grabbing distance for him to occupy himself with.  

Dutch pressed more of the cool substance onto your hole, coating his cock with it and then testing your readiness with a couple of his fingers. You sighed, leaning back onto them and he and Arthur smirked at each other.  

“Easy, girl,” Arthur cooed, not unlike the way he spoke to his mare though you didn’t give that thought any attention, “you’ll get yours.”  

Dutch’s palm came onto your back to urge you down so you were leant entirely over Arthur. He rubbed your ass that now sported a red splotch thanks to him, and pressed a kiss to your lower back. He nodded at Arthur without your knowledge, who proceeded to pull you closer by way of distraction. He trailed his fingertips up your sides, around your front and into your hair, pushing it away from your face and then leaning up to kiss you, gently pulling you down as he lowered his head to the bed.  

Arthur nipped playfully at your bottom lip, coaxing your mouth open and diving his tongue in to experience you once more. He hadn’t expected the kissing to be one of his favourite parts of this. Holding a hand to the back of your head, you didn’t have much choice but to keep it going but gasped when Dutch pressed the head of his cock to your ass.  

“Easy,” Arthur repeated, his lips only a centimetre from yours and began kissing you again while Dutch paused.  

“Be good for me, darlin’,” Dutch purred, pressing his cock forward again experimentally. “I know you can take it.”  

You calmed your breathing, not realising it’d sped up and when Dutch breached you with the end of his thick cock you moaned loudly, screwing your eyes closed at the stretch.  

“Want me to -”  

“No,” you grouched, “god no. Keep going.”  

Dutch chuckled, pushing in further while Arthur lavished your neck with wet pecks and licks, keeping your head held still and caressing your chest with his other hand. He pinched your nipple at the same time Dutch edged further in once again, the stretch coming a little easier now. You groaned through gritted teeth, shifting your hips back to take the rest of him, not stopping until your ass met his hips.  

With a hand squeezing each ass cheek, Dutch’s chest vibrated with a growl. “God damn.”  

“We knew you could do it,” Arthur said absentmindedly, still focused on using his lips to taste every inch of your skin.   

It was an unusual sensation to say the least, you knew you’d be sore in the morning but there was something tantalising about being filled this way, and Dutch’s reaction made it all the more worthwhile. He shifted himself out a little and offered you a short thrust, digging his fingertips into your skin at the moan that left you. With his and Arthur’s hands holding you down, you attempted to shift your hips, urging him in to let him know that it was okay. He did another small thrust and you huffed hoarsely. “More.”  

Dutch paused, letting out a tense breath. “What have I told you about telling me what to do?”  

You whined pitifully, desperate to come again and knowing that despite appearances Dutch didn’t want to risk hurting you. But you knew it was okay, and you knew you wanted more. “I don’t care,” you breathed. “More. Please.”  

With a pleased hum, Dutch trailed his palm up your spine and back down to your lower back to hold you down. “Fuck her, Arthur.”  

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, already starved of you and ceased his affections on your neck, grasping his cock and lining up with your entrance. Before he could thrust up, the pressure from Dutch’s hand increased and he pushed you until Arthur was completely inside you, your knees widening to accommodate the distance and gasping at the feel of his cock sliding in.  

You couldn’t describe it. It was like all the air had been pushed from your lungs, feeling almost too full with both of their hard cocks nestled comfortably in you. It felt so dirty to be used like this by a pair of outlaws, but that only made the whole thing more enjoyable.  

Arthur’s palms came to either side of your rib cage, unsure who was supporting who and took a deep breath while watching the ecstasy grow on your face. He ground his hips into you and your walls clenched, Dutch nestling his hips against your ass. Neither man seemed to want to be the first to thrust, so you rose forward slightly and sank back, whimpering as the two cocks filled you once more.  

“N-No,” Arthur stuttered, gently brushing his hands over your skin, "you keep yourself still". He began to slowly thrust into you, Dutch obliging your needs all the same and it was like the repeated flicking of a switch as both your holes demanded your focus. But you couldn’t, the sensations began to merge as they picked up a rhythm, one sliding in as the other slid out.  

You moaned a blissful moan, hands splaying on Arthur’s chest while he stared up, infatuated with the bounce of your tits.  

“You like that?” Dutch grit out, fingertips sinking further into your skin, “like being used like a common whore?”  

“Mhm,” you agreed through a breath, revelling in the repeated stretch.  

Dutch pushed his hips forwards hard, jolting you forward and Arthur let out a strangled groan. Both men increased their pace, Dutch grunting with each thrust and Arthur panting.  

They ravished you as though it was the first and last time, fucking you more senseless than you already were until your thoughts were nothing other than a merry band of delightful sensations. Dutch’s big hand squeezing your ass cheek, Arthur’s attempt at grabbing every part of you, and of course the ruthless pounding into your body as you whined into the sweaty air.  

“You’re doin’ so good, darlin’,” Arthur ran his hand lovingly up your flank and to your ass, gently squeezing the flesh there. “So fuckin’ good.”  

Babbles of their names fell from your lips, becoming the only two words you could remember as they took you deep and hard, growing comfortable with taking the risk. At this point, you didn’t care too much if it did hurt; the pleasure far outweighing the pain.  

Dutch fisted a hand into your hair, dragging your torso up and you squeaked a little as he pulled your head back to meet his eyes.  

“Don’t lose yourself yet, darlin’,” he warned and you tried to nod but his hold on you was too solid. Instead, you blinked at him and he understood your response well enough.  

“Dutch,” you whispered, eyes falling shut as both of them fucked you at the change in angle, the brush of the heads of their cocks over your walls the only thing you could focus on.  

“You’re our girl now,” he affirmed and you dropped your fucked-out gaze to Arthur’s. “All ours to fuck.”  

“Yes,” you whined, debating alleviating yourself of all other responsibilities to be at the service of these two outlaws. “All yours.”  

“Jesus,” Arthur hissed, gripping your thighs as he bucked up and dropped his head back onto the bed.  

Dutch curled his hand around your throat, cold rings nudging your windpipe and restricting your airflow. Feeling deliciously floaty you hummed, fluttering your eyes shut while Dutch pulled you into his sweaty chest and held you there in the perfect position, their cocks angling in such a way that made you content to stay like this forever. Or at least until you blacked out from the choking, you weren’t choosy.  

Arthur tested your stimulation with a brush of his fingers, revelling in how you seemed to pull away and push closer at the same time, not really sure what you wanted at this point. He circled you expertly and you relaxed some more, pleasure pulsing from three different places with Dutch gathering your wrists behind your back and holding you there. Your shoulders drew back, the only movement you could manage thanks to the stubborn grip he had on your neck, tremors journeying up your toes and fingers.  

Dutch briefly relieved your neck and brought his hand to rest on your lower abdomen. “Feel that?” he breathed in your ear with a crack in his voice while he pushed down slightly. “Surprised we’ve not split you in two.”  

With a dark chuckle, Arthur latched his fingernails onto your thighs while he bit down on his tongue, savouring every inch of you with the hopes of reliving the experience time and time again in the comfort of his tent.  

“You’re taking us so well,” he praised, punctuating his sentence with a groan. “Wanna... fill you right to the brim with me.”  

You nodded weakly, unable to move again when Dutch resumed his grip on your neck, but it was enough of an agreement for them and they doubled down their efforts, drilling into you like their lives depended on it.  

“Don’t stop,” you sobbed, eyes screwed tight and watering.  

“Couldn’t even if I wanted to, darlin’.” Arthur huffed, face hardening with a deep thrust as a bead of sweat meandered down his temple.  

Both cocks drove into you at the same time, flipping between almost-empty and too-full until you no longer felt like you had any control over your body. The squeeze somehow felt tighter and you pulsed, both of them groaning at your responsiveness while you whimpered pathetically.  

“Please, please,” you begged, wondering if perhaps you couldn’t come one more time for them but neither man planned on stopping until you did, proving you entirely wrong when Arthur pinched your clit and his cock pressed directly onto the soft spot in your walls while Dutch’s cock made your ass it’s new favourite place.  

“So good for us,” he murmured on your hair. “Such a spirited thing, thinking you have... any,” he groaned as he searched through his aroused mind for words, “any control over us. We practically own you now, darlin’. Ain’t n-no way you’re getting away with being a brat again.”  

“’S almost cute,” Arthur chuckled through his laboured breaths.  

“Does,” you struggled to swallow against Dutch’s palm, “does it mean you’ll do it... again? I-If I defy you?”  

“Defy me or not,” Dutch purred, “there’s no way I could go a day without fuckin’ you like this.”  

He sucked your neck as they both stretched and pushed into you, arousal thrumming through your veins at being nothing short of a vessel for them. The knowledge of what your body did to them was wonderful. Filthy, but wonderful.  

“S-Shouldn’t have let two men have you like this, s-sweetheart,” Arthur muttered, “you’ll never get rid of us.”  

Dutch hummed his agreement and you felt like you would explode, passion and want filling you to the brim along with their cocks and you whined, high-pitched and desperate as your legs began to shake, the urge to relieve yourself coming on strong. “Give it to me, please. Please, please, please...”  

That was as much as Arthur could handle, you begging and shaking and restrained awoke something within him and he pushed in as far as he could. His warmth filling your insides as his cock throbbed was the final straw and you gushed all over him, more than you’d ever seen come from yourself as it squirted from you and onto his hand.  

“Fuck,” Arthur gawked at the sight of your mess, prompting Dutch to let go of your neck and you took in a deep breath when his hand joined Arthur’s to coat his fingers in your release.  

“Holy shit,” he groaned and buried himself to the hilt, satisfied to finally make his claim on your body, thick ropes of his cum filling your ass.  

You dropped forward, unable to co-ordinate yourself and Arthur caught you, gently pulling you into his chest and you honed in on the rise and fall of it, his breaths skimming over the top of your head. Dutch leaned a hand on your back, an attempt at soothing you but ending up using you to keep himself upright.  

“She okay?” he forced out the words to Arthur, squeezing his eyes shut as he emptied the last of his load into you.  

Arthur craned his neck and you blinked up to him with a small nod. “Feel like I’m floating.”  

The three of you remained still, bodies vibrating with energy in unison and heartbeats slowing along with your breathing. Time didn’t feel real, the walls of reality blurry and unimportant while your body came down from being so thoroughly used. You were aware when Dutch pulled out, his cum trickling from you while Arthur kissed the crown of your head, keeping you held against his strong chest.  

You shifted slightly, realising Arthur was manoeuvring you to nestle into his side as he unsheathed himself when Dutch’s hand pried open your leg and you blinked down as he wiped a cloth over you, not before admiring the cum dripping out of your debauched holes. He cleaned you up the best he could and you sighed contently into Arthur as he ran his fingers through your hair soothingly.  

Dutch dropped onto your other side, out of breath and the three of you blinked up at the ceiling for some time while you returned to your bodies.  

The thrumming in your veins dropped to a low hum that you suspected would stay there for a while, and with you still angled towards Arthur, Dutch lazily draped an arm over your midsection and curled protectively around you.  

No words were needed, three bodies in perfect harmony and understanding while you comfortably drifted into a well-deserved rest. Dutch and Arthur glanced at each other when your body grew heavy, a silent agreement that they would protect you with their lives at all costs. And that they were absolutely, without a doubt, doing that again sometime.  

[alukaforyou]

hooooly fcking shit i have to tell yall smth nuts, WARNING there r semi detailed mentions AND A PIC of HUGE SYRINGES / NEEDLES

oookay so last month nyc got a heat wave and it was SO hot i was a sweaty gorl and not happy abt it, like hate summer too?? and then i remembered watching korean tv and these celebs were talking abt how they got underarm BOTOX cuz that stops you from sweating??? and i was like huh should i try that? but after doing some research, its not permanent. like hello im not gonna spend $ and have needles in my PITS for it to last a few months u kno?? but then i found this laser thing called miradry which is permanent, like its mainly used to treat hyperhydrosis which i dont even have so i thought the results would be stellar for regular ol' me right?? and they make it sound soo painless like "u can do it in ur lunchbreak and go back to work!" bruh u absolutely cannot go back to work after this LMFAO so i went to this veteran nyc med dude to do it today and HOLY SHIT IT HURT LIKE A MF-ER LIKE ACTUALLY WTF

so before they can go in w the laser they have to numb ur whole ass pit by injecting numbing fluid(?) which also protects ur nerves ok got it. i was expecting like. a normal shot right? hell no. so first i think they prelim numb u with a normal syringe shot business it was fine. BUT THEN THEY TAKE OUT THIS SHIT?

i swear to GOD it was the biggest mfing syringe i have ever seen in my LIFE i wish i took a pic so u guys can believe me, the needle was THICK AS FCK and also like TWICE as long as the pic above like for real it was at least a 4 inch needle i wish i was exaggerating but it was comically long & big i was like what the f? obvs i couldnt SEE what was going on but it FELT LIKE the whole 4 inches was going INTO my skin over and over again cuz u have to inject that fluid all over everywhere it was sooo crazy, the doc was basically f*king my armpits with this needle, AND!!!!! THEY PUT 3 FRICKIN SYRINGES WORTH OF FLUID!!! ON EACH SIDE??? HELLOOOO!!!!!!! from a scale of 1 to 10 that was a solid 15 😐😐😐 the actual lasering part wasnt bad, it felt like a crazy hard pinch with HEAT in some parts but i was so taken aback by that needle action, the laser part was negligible. i was such a champ for it tho like didnt even bat an eye outwardly, the tech was like wow ur the first person i've done that didnt even flinch. yes i didnt show it naruto ninja style but that was nuts yall u guys rly Did That LOL

needless to say, since a FCKTON of fluid is in my damb PITS they are sooo swollen, like the upper inner arm, the pit itself, underneath it nxt to ur b00b its frickin whack over there 😐 like tell me how my armpits have jiggle physics. thats full of water babey!!!! oh my god they are sooo sore and painful kms the hubris of it all i shouldve been ok w a normal amount of sweat LOLOL like appropriate levels for the heat but dambbb i rly tried it🤣🤣🤣🤣💀💀💀💀 yall there needs to be a disclaimer do NOT get this shit done UNLESS u ACTUALLY have excess sweating that is actively ruining ur daily life because rn it feels like my armpits are in LABOR :) i just paid 2.3k to torture myself, but since its done & all, i hope im an armpit-sweatless bitch for the rest of my life

[geeky-politics-46]

So my day has been interesting, to say the least. It started out with this...

Here's the story...

So I went to the ER last night because I was having horrible pain in my jaw. Like 8 out of 10, I'm gonna either puke or pass out pain.

My dentist had been dismissing pain I've had since Feb when I got a deep cleaning. Saying I needed to weary night guard & that it was normal sensitivity. Well, here we are 3 months later & it's so much worse

The ER couldn't do much, but give me a nerve block. I get how worried they are about opioid addiction, but I was ready to saw off an arm in exchange for some relief. Like I was in full-on, tears break down mode. Still nothing...

Then I went home still in pain, down to a 4/5, from an 8, & began looking for emergency dentists. Found one that could get me in immediately. Showed up still in tears, but there was light at the end of the tunnel. He took 1 x-ray & found 2 large absess at the root of one of my teeth. The tooth apparently is pretty much dead now, so he drained the absess & got me started on antibiotics. Still no pain pill beyond regular ibuprofen, so I'm still in some pain but a hell of a lot better. Seriously, please look past the opioid crises & see when patients are truly in pain.

Tomorrow morning, I have an emergency root canal to try & save that tooth. I'll need a crown, obviously, but after the root canal, at least the pain should stop.

Just for fun, below are my x-rays. The 2 big dark blobs by the root of the tooth are the absesses. The one silver lining is that I did a lot of scary stuff today by myself. Took myself to the ER alone. Got major dental work (which is already a phobia) alone. Getting more major dental work done alone tomorrow. So I'm patting myself on the back for that big time.

Also fun plus, the new dentist I went to collects Doctor Strange comic books.

Moral of this story: Doctors, Nurses, Dentists, & Hygienists - please believe your patients when they say something is wrong & they are in pain. Please don't make them suffer for 3 months like I did & tell me you think it's nothing!

[llitchilitchi]

Ehi, there is something I wanna ask about your "Monarchy Restoration", now that Dream is back to George's side (in the future), what it means for Dream's alliance with Technoblade? Is the Syndicate going to be a problem in the future? And, what about The Plan? Is Dream going to follow his plan anyway?

ooh interesting questions

I do want to tackle both of these at some point, hopefully by the end of the year (at least one of them anyways)

his alliance with Techno is strained to begin with - much like in canon, Techno told him to hand the armour back and get lost, so we can't exactly speak of close allyship or regular cooperation. that being said, there is no hostility between the two either, and I really want to do a comic where Techno comes investigate Kinoko Kingdom and their activities (rivalsduo banter included) - it's why I did the concept art of MR!Techno a couple months back to begin with, I was working out some stuff around their meeting at the time

Techno's visit might be prompted by Niki who's a neighbour to Kinoko (which would mean I have to design Niki for this AU and the mere idea excites me) and there might be a comic about a syndicate meeting? it would certainly be an interesting one to draw, though straying a bit from following just the Dream Team, which is who the AU is centered around. maybe I could just do a singular painting and give it some flavour text lmao

as of some spoilers: Techno promises to stay out of the way as long as Dream promises to behave and keep an eye out on George and his kingly ambitions. for now they're chill though and Techno makes sure to tell Dream that he's proud that he finally got himself a house

as of The Plan! that will be tackled only way, Way later. for now Dream needs to recover, and despite what he wants to do, George and especially Sapnap are keeping a close eye on him so he can't do much until he wins them over, or until he figures out how to remove them (which is a lot easier said than done. the dethronement was already difficult.) the end result, though, will be George and Sapnap teaming up with Dream and Punz and things get put in motion, with a few adjustments to accomodate for the very particular relationship each member of the dream team has with DXD - that is, Sapnap revealing the death book, and George is far from free of XD's influence (which, again, needs a bit more screentime)

given that Punz's introduction won the comic polls, this part of the story should be introduced soon, though it will come in multiple parts and might drag a little bit

and well, all things said are tightly tied to Dream restoring George's kingship, which is something you can look forward to, too :)

[sincerely-sofie]

Check-in for October 24, 2023

I'm planning on doing regular check-ins that peeps can read or skip as much as they please. If you want to see behind the scenes of my projects or get to know me a bit better, feel free to peek below the cut! If not, just look at this color palette I made for my web dev class and admire it:

I know green and pink are my favorite colors, so I may be just a tad biased, but look!!! Look at how pretty it is!!!

I plan to use the palette for a website that is basically a guided tour of a fictional town that's populated by bug people, and while the colors used in the initial character sketches are still my preference, I don't think they look too bad in this proof of concept image! They definitely need some tweaking, and some details in the art itself need correcting, but all around it's not too shabby :>

I also made the logo for the website which, while uninspired, doesn't look that bad. I'm not in a logo design course, so I can't be too upset about that. I made two versions--- a light and dark one--- so that I could have it appear on most colors of background.

Also, I've printed off tons of art and stuck it on my walls over the past few days to inspire me. The art wall has been very successful in beautifying my space, but I've been a bit too worn out to draw much other than the start of a project where I draw individual generations of pokemon by memory. Venusaur looks exactly like I remembered it, but also nothing like that at all. Charizard's line only looks halfway decent by virtue of Twig existing.

I must say, though, that I am charmed by these drawings' doofy lil grins. Just look at Bulbasaur. He is raring to go! Charmander is ready to shake your hand! Look at these lads!!

I've been trying to learn Clip Studio Paint by drawing a new The Present is a Gift comic in it, but I cannot begin to explain to you all how intimidating of a program it is for me. I'm a Procreate gal, y'all. I have a conniption whenever I look at the Photoshop interface. When I look at this:

I am desperate for the cozy white space of this:

I spent over an hour struggling to draw a simple piece for Instagram, admittedly while desperately trying to get OBS to not give out on me while I recorded my screen, but I think that I'm slowly learning how to not faint whenever the Paint window boots up.

Anyhoo--- enjoy the WIP teaser for the upcoming comic featuring a chat between Dusknoir (piloting a KO'd Twig) and Darkrai amidst a cave-in. If I am found dead, know that said comic worked alongside Clip Studio Paint to kill me.

As an update for The Present is a Gift in terms of the fanfic, I recently broke 6,000 words for the first draft. I haven't been writing too regularly--- when I do, it's usually to just sit down for 30 minutes max to try and get a little bit of a head start on NaNoWriMo coming up--- but whenever I do, the words come in batches of 400-700+ at a time. My dudes, I used to take a week to reach the lower end of that amount. I've been beating perfectionism back with a stick while sobbing "Quantity begets quality! Quantity begets quality!", but since I've set myself a challenge to write as many garbage words as possible without editing them until the first draft is done, I've been writing--- and enjoying the process of writing--- more than I have in my entire life.

I've been trying to win NaNoWriMo, a challenge where you write 50k words in November, for the last 7 years. I resigned myself to being a NaNo rebel and trying to write just 15k words next month. But if I keep cranking out 1,500 words in under two writing sprints per day--- without properly trying to eliminate distractions--- I think I could actually win for once??? I didn't think Pokemon Mystery Dungeon fanfiction would be what gave me a fighting chance at winning NaNoWriMo, but here I am. PMD brainrot truly is a miraculous thing, but I'll have to see exactly miraculous it is on the 1st of November.

So... yep! I probably should have figured out a way to sign off on check-in posts before deciding to publish this. Oops. Welp. Um. Thanks for reading?

Sincerely, Sofie

[bvannn]

Weekly Update June 7, 2024

I’m in a sour mood right now because I got differed from plasma over paperwork. I’ll try a different chain next week, since the one I’ve been going to is super crowded now anyway. We also got a cat this week, that was the correct answer to the post on Saturday. It’s my mom’s cat, but mom has been out most of this week so I’ve been left alone with her. I’ve been really tired. Like insanely tired. But I still got a good amount of stuff done.

Artfight stuff: I’m planning on revamping the thumbnails and redoing Romeo’s refsheet, plus adding Josh. Luckily at work this week I was put on a job that’s pretty relaxed as far as timing goes, and I have lots of little gaps of time to draw while I wait for the balance to stabilize. As a result I got Romeo and Josh’s refsheets sketched, as well as all the thumbnails planned + several sketched. Tomorrow I’ll try to get some of those rendered.

Comic stuff: Comic is going to be on the back burner this month and next most likely, but I did finish off page 7 and started sketching page 8, which I plan to continue slowly. Every once in a while I’ll get stunlocked with indecisiveness and what I’ve been doing to combat it is 15 sit-ups and then roll a wheel of small tasks and do whatever it says, then repeat until free time is over. So it’s still getting done in those little bursts where I don’t have enough time for something bigger.

Music: another quickie is generally done, but I’m going to hold off on it until I decide to do lyrics for it, because it would probably be perfect for an animation meme if I add some quick generic poppy lyrics. Like I can just channel my rage into a couple stanzas and call it good. I really want to release songs specifically for animation memes because I like newgrounds and respect newgrounds’ copyright policy so I want to make some nice music for animation memes that’s copyright safe for whoever to use with credit. Also still making progress on re-mixing my older tracks, OEB needed a complete redo, some VSTs needed to be swapped out entirely, plug I’m learning a bunch of fancy new tricks, so good chance I’ll post another sample of that once I get it figured out. Unsure if I need to actually redo the vocaloid track or just to redo the effects, but I can figure that out after the instrumentals are done.

Also got a good amount of lyric writing done, RR is 88% done, BATB is still a cool 71%. I’m getting into the groove of doing that at work too, so hopefully those should be done quick, plus the quickie I have on hold. Once I have energy I’ll also finish up that other quickie and the Zelda medley I’ve had in the pipe, hopefully that’ll be this weekend, but good chance it’ll be Monday night.

Other things: OEB is at 32% on storyboards, and like 17% on the Kyo rig. A whole bunch of assets are done but need to be imported/exported, plus I’m taking a couple shortcuts too to make things a bit easier, and I can flesh out the rig more as I use it more. Also, my strategy for the sketchy lines is a success! I may also be able to apply it to other areas and fix the issue of flash being shit for drawing, but that’s a bit ambitious. I’ll try chipping away at having the rest of the clip assets *drawn* by the end of the month so I can import/export them at work next month. But again that’s currently in the ‘if I have a little free time’ bracket of priority.

Miscellaneous: I’m getting a couple TTRPG things done too, little bit of writing, little bit of drawing, again not too high a priority but it’s getting done.

Tonight I’m tired and in a bad mood so I’m going to just chip away at re-mixing OEB tonight and maybe sketch a comic panel or two. Maybe. I have one more regular general drawing I want to get done before the end of the month but I don’t know when that’s coming, this weekend I’ll try to focus on Artfight stuff, with breaks in between to spin the wheel of small tasks I need to accomplish. Lots of housekeeping, hopefully next week is kind to me with plasma so I get more time.