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I pressed my lips to her ear, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t come yet,” I whispered. “Not until I say.”

Fern whimpered, but obeyed, the muscles in her thighs going rigid as Alyx drove her closer and closer to the edge.

I looked down at Alyx. She was a mess—face flushed, hair in chaos, sweat glistening on her shoulders. I reached over, grabbed her by the braid, and yanked her up for air.

She gasped, lips shiny, nostrils flared. “What?” she panted.

“Open your mouth,” I ordered.

She did, tongue out, eyes wide and hungry.

I spat in it, not out of malice, but as a gift—a trace of Fern’s taste, a sample of what she was never going to beat.

Alyx moaned. My nipples ached. Then she dove back down, attacking Fern with renewed purpose. I watched, delighted, as she redoubled her efforts, alternating between tongue, fingers, and the occasional desperate hum that vibrated through Fern’s entire body.

I could see the tension building. Fern’s hands clawed at the towel, legs kicking out, abs fluttering under the pressure. She was holding on by will alone.

I decided to make it harder.

I reached down, touched Alyx’s shoulder, and let my mythic field roll over her. She gasped, then shuddered as the energy rippled down her back, tightening every muscle, making her nipples pebble even harder. Her full, dark, nipples were already standing proud and desperate for touch.

I smiled. “You want me to have a taste?” I asked.

Alyx looked up, face slick, breath hot. “Yes,” she whispered.

I pulled her up, guided her into my lap, then buried my face in her tits, biting and sucking until she was moaning, her whole body shaking with need. Fern watched, her own eyes burning, hips lifting off the towel as if she needed to see every second of this.

I pressed Alyx down, forcing her back to work on Fern, but kept one hand tangled in her hair, the other roaming down her back to cup her ass, squeezing hard enough to leave marks.

For a minute, all three of us moved in perfect sync—Alyx licking Fern, me teasing Alyx, Fern writhing under both. The tension in the air was so thick it felt like the whole city might snap in two.

I decided to break it.

With a simple flex of my mythic resonance, I levitated Alyx off the ground, flipped her upside down, and held her hovering overFern’s thighs. Alyx’s tongue still worked, but now her front was exposed. Her dark nipples looked painfully hard, and she was so wet beads started to trickle down the crease of her hips.

I crawled up and straddled Fern’s face again. This time, I faced Alyx, and Fern’s hands pressed painfully into my ass and hips. I pressed down hard, grinding my clit against her tongue with enough force to bruise. Fern gasped, then licked, the rhythm now wild, desperate, her hips bucking as Alyx, still floating, resumed licking her clit, recovered from the distraction of me stretching above Fern.

I grabbed Alyx’s tits. They were almost obscenely big, compared to Fern’s slight chest and my modest bust. I ran my thumbs over Alyx’s hard nipples, lifted my hips so Fern could see. Fern panted beneath me, a low, dangerous groan emerging from her throat.

I leaned forward, cupped Alyx’s breasts, and sucked and bit at both her nipples like they were a chew toy. Alyx whimpered louder than Fern. Under me, Fern was trembling, close, and Alyx saw the moment to strike. She attacked Fern’s clit with the desperation of a last-ditch attack.

I ran my tongue from Alyx’s tits up her navel, shifted my hips again so Fern had to watch, when my tongue extended in what felt like slow motion, and the assault of my tongue’s rough papillae on Alyx’s clit broke both women.

Fern cried, arching and spasming. Raw, mythic resonance bled from her like light from a sun, the wave molded by her tongue against my clit, pushing me into an orgasm that turned the world white. I, the vicious bitch that I am, continued to stroke Alyx’s clit with my tongue throughout all of this.

Poor Alyx got hit with the resonance after it traveled through my body, and she detonated like an atomic bomb. Her juicescovered my face, her body shuddered, and she collapsed, ruined but triumphant.

Fern had come. We all had, but I most of all, not out of greed, but out of Fern’s obstinate refusal to make anything easy.

We were locked together, a single unit of want and release, the boundaries between our bodies erased by the force of what we’d just done.

Thread Modulation: Fern Trivane

Axis Alignment: South Tower, Eventide

We didn’t even try to untangle. Three bodies, six arms, too many legs—every one of them sticky with sweat, mythic fallout, and the kind of afterglow they don’t let on HoloNet. The air in the training room was too thick to breathe, each exhale a fresh scandal of ozone, salt, and old gym mats. The floor under us might’ve still been spinning, but I couldn’t be sure, since Dyris had my left arm and Alyx’s thigh was pinning me to the towel with ruthless, sleepy efficiency.

We lay there, steaming, for what felt like a decade of postwar reconstruction.