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i. Oh my god, they were Rumi's
Zoey moaned into Rumi's mouth, just as her legs turned to jelly and threatened to give out.
Rumi spread her knees for balance and straightened up, gripping Zoey around the middle and supporting her weight. Zoey cried out against Rumi's cheek, bracing against her shoulders and leaning into her hold.
Mira's fingernails — which were all that Rumi could see of her — were losing traction against Zoey's thighs, dragging white hot contrails into her flushed skin.
Rumi gaped, drinking in all of Zoey's tortured expressions and the clouds of steamy breath on her lips. It was closer than Rumi had ever been to intensity like this, in more ways than one.
Zoey's hips jerked and rolled, as she grew heavier in Rumi's arms — using the last of her strength to lower gracefully onto the mattress with Rumi's assistance.
Where Zoey had been kneeling, Mira lay catching her breath, skin slick and glimmering faintly under the dimmed lights. Even upside down, Rumi could read the dreamy, intoxicated grin plastered on her face.
Eventually Mira stirred, gravitating back towards Zoey, who draped around Mira's neck, drawing her impossibly close.
Rumi diverted her eyes while they kissed. After all of that, now Rumi felt like a voyeur to their lovemaking.
With a final, lingering kiss, Mira pulled away, turning slowly to Rumi.
"Your turn." Mira smirked.
Mira stalked on all fours towards Rumi. Her deliberate movements and intense stare alerted some visceral nerve in Rumi's brain — a warning: danger. The impression of being hunted, preyed upon, raised the hairs on the back of Rumi's neck.
But as Mira towered over her, Rumi corrected that assessment.
No — prey wasn't right.
Her presence scintillated menace, but not threat. Less an apex predator, and more of a fearsome dragon protecting its treasure — craving and coveting at once.
Mira kissed Rumi gently at first, then grew more needy. Long hands rubbed along Rumi's frame, pawing greedily at her tits and grabbing at her ass.
Rumi gripped the back of Mira's neck and slid a palm gradually down her naval, then flush against the front of her panties — a move Zoey had taught her with great enthusiasm.
Only, unlike Zoey, Mira broke their kiss sharply, her eyes boring into Rumi's. Fingers delicately circled around Rumi's wrist, transplanting her hand back to the crook of Mira's hip.
"Hands above the waist." Mira commanded bluntly, no further explanation given.
She kissed up Rumi's neck and nipped at her earlobe.
"The usual?" She purred, and Rumi felt it as much as heard — hot breath scorching her ear and billowing a flush across Rumi's cheeks.
Not expecting an answer, Mira slid one thigh between Rumi's legs, pressing her weight down. Rumi couldn't help but clamp around it, tugging up the loose fabric of her pyjama bottoms for more comfortable access.
Rumi savaged Mira's mouth in a kiss that was less lips than it was teeth and tongues and throaty groans. While Mira was busy on that battlefront, Rumi claimed dominance over their bodies — rolling Mira onto her side, then pinning her underneath. Rumi's hips rolled to an erratic beat, too needy and high on desire to temper her movements.
Eventually Rumi pulled back, Mira's head overshooting forward slightly at the sudden loss of an opposing force.
Rumi stared down, and Mira's brow crumpled, concerned with the uncharacteristic surrender.
Rumi swallowed self-consciously under her gaze. "Maybe we could—" Rumi's head wobbled side-to-side as she psyched herself up. "Try something new?"
Mira's eyes lit up like a stadium of feral fans.
Though the trio had been fooling around for several weeks now, Rumi had been timid — cautious about easing into their dynamic. To begin with, even just seeing Zoey and Mira kiss had been too overwhelming. It still could be.
But Rumi had worked hard. Practiced enduring the ache of watching her lovers indulge each other. Acclimating to a sensual touch, to the agonizing vulnerability of whispered words, to the tense spotlight of a hungered gaze.
And now here she was. As naked as she'd ever been, preparing to advance another small step along their journey.
Mira launched from under Rumi, clambering over Zoey — who stretched groggily and shuffled in to cuddle against Rumi's side.
Mira glanced back, noticing her spot had been stolen, and circled around their huge bed. "Zoey."
She settled on Rumi's other side, adjusting her glasses.
"Did you have anything in mind, or would you prefer suggestions?" Mira clicked her pen and flipped through the pages of a well-worn notebook.
When Rumi didn't reply, Mira scooted closer and Rumi scanned down the lines. Some items were already marked off, annotated in Mira's bubbly handwriting or Zoey's scrawl.
Kissing—very aggressive! Feet—hard no, too ticklish.
Biting, scratching, wrestling, grinding — all had some variations of 'yes', sometimes with a few exclamation points.
"Um, probably stick with these ones?" Zoey flicked back a few pages, pointing to some long words Rumi had never seen in her life.
Rumi glanced away from the menu bashfully, shooting Zoey a silent plea.
Zoey gently closed the book. "We don't have to fill in the list now, Rumi." But her pointed stare was directed at Mira.
Rumi looked over.
"No." Mira conceded coolly, holding Zoey's gaze for a moment. "But Rumi," Mira's expression softened and she peered over her glasses. "Is there anything you know you don't want to try today?"
Rumi hadn't exactly had enough experience to build up her imagination for what was possible. But she scrubbed through her mental library, returning nothing but a warm, tingling sense of anticipation.
Rumi shook her head. "Anything I've seen you guys do is fine."
Mira clicked her pen and removed her glasses, casting an esoteric glance at Zoey before turning to set down her things.
"Sorry for corrupting you, Rumi." Zoey whispered, not an ounce of sincerity, and pecked Rumi on the cheek.
Mira crawled back on top, Rumi's hands latching to her boobs like a magnet.
"Some things seem hot in theory," Mira grazed her lips against Rumi's "but it can feel different first-hand."
Rumi pitched her head forward, trying to capture Mira's lips, as she teased them just out of reach.
"If something doesn't feel right—"
"I know." Rumi cut in, whining out the final word. There had been too many interruptions already, and she was eager to avoid another round of drills on consent and safewords and procedures and colors, and all other such jargon that Mira took extremely seriously.
Mira didn't reply, but pressed her mouth to Rumi's, letting her take control of the kiss in silent agreement.
After a moment, Mira began to draw back. She nudged Zoey very slightly — enough for her to register the message and take over as Rumi's playmate.
Mira's head dipped down, brushing her face along Rumi's soft skin and over the curve of her breast. She tortured Rumi's nipple until it pricked to attention, and she slid her hand down to pluck at the elastic of Rumi's pyjama bottoms.
Rumi nodded in response to Mira's glance, and her hand complied, diving under the layers of thin material.
For a split second, Mira hesitated, as her fingers brushed past Rumi's short hairs and found purchase on slick skin.
She smoothed over the bundle again, this time drawing a soft "Miraaa—" and a lazy roll of Rumi's hips.
Mira ran some calculations. Whatever she was touching, Rumi seemed to enjoy it, and that was good enough for her.
She shuffled further south, and Zoey wasted no time in stealing her spot — straddling Rumi's waist, and monopolizing both her mouth and attention.
Behind Zoey's back, Rumi's hand curled into a thumbs-up, answering Mira's silent request. Rumi shifted weight onto her feet so Mira could slide her pants down, before whisking them away.
Kneeling to one side, Mira sat back on her heels to take in the view. Though Zoey was draped across her like a silk sheet, there was plenty of Rumi to drink in.
Time slowed as Rumi and Mira locked eyes. Rumi gazed up, a rabbit caught in the headlights. Mira felt it pierce right through her, almost winding her with sudden emotion.
Her eyes flicked to Zoey and softened. Mira remembered how it felt to be exposed completely for the first time, and it sent a chill along her spine.
"Rumi," Mira leaned in, recalling Zoey's words: "you are perfect, exactly the way you are."
She pressed a lingering kiss on Rumi's knee before trailing them inward, her nails raking gently after.
Mira rested her head on one hand, combing the other through Rumi's short, purple hairs with faint amusement. As though surveying each detail of a lush painting, she turned her attention to Rumi's patterns. Mira traced her fingers along each one, noting how they seemed to radiate outward from between Rumi's legs.
Mira descended a little more, addressing her main object of intrigue. For a clitoris at least, it was rather large.
Mira ran her tongue up the length impulsively, and watched with elation as it strained and swelled before her eyes. The tip angled back toward Rumi's stomach and the underside of the base was parted symmetrically into the soft ruffles flanking her vulva.
Rumi spread her legs further as Mira leaned in, letting her lips and tongue explore, and map out the environment.
It felt like home, Mira reflected, savouring the electrifying cocktail of heat and smell and taste and texture. She could bathe in this.
Mira tapped Rumi's thigh with the back of her hand, and Rumi's head popped up, looking thoroughly ravished.
Mira mimed a thrusting motion with two upturned fingers, and Rumi answered with an enthusiastic nod, before getting dragged back into a deep kiss. Mira watched lustfully for a few moments before settling between Rumi's legs.
She initially leaned on her arm, before changing her mind and stuffing a pillow under her chest so she could comfortably use both of her hands.
With her left, she reached up, fondling Rumi's clit and feeling it expand appreciatively. With her right hand, Mira slid a fingertip slowly into Rumi's vagina, circling around the entrance a few times and giving Rumi time to acclimate or object.
With great interest, Mira found that it grew hotter and hotter as her finger slid further in, and she slowly worked in a second digit.
She pressed as deep as she could reach, massaging each surface in turn, oscillating her fingers, and hooking them around every nook — searching for a sweet spot.
With some trial and error, Mira finally struck gold.
Right at the very limit of her reach, she found a knot that made Rumi's abs tighten, and her breath catch.
Mira pumped her hand slightly, searching for the extra clearance as her knuckles smacked against Rumi's skin. The patch was burning hot — Mira's fingertips tingled and lost sensation as they rubbed insistently over it.
Her perseverence was rewarded with a throaty cry, and Rumi's clit reared in her hand. Mira did a double take— what the hell was that?
She withdrew her fingers to a more comfortable position, curling around Rumi's pubic bone, and leaned over.
On Rumi's heaving stomach, Mira noticed a splash of thick, white fluid that definitely hadn't been there a few moments ago.
Mira blinked, peering down the barrel of Rumi's… whatever that was. Sure enough, right at the tip, there was a little dimple leaking a few milky drops.
She glanced up at her two girls — busy devouring each other's faces. 'Zoey's going to fucking love this.'
Mira slowly drew her hand up Rumi's shaft again. It strained in response, but seemed to have — at long last — reached its capacity for growth. There wasn't quite enough for both fists, so Mira caressed Rumi's sensitive entrance with one hand, lightly pumping the base of her cock with the other. She lowered her head with a grin — topping things off by licking lazy circles around Rumi's tip.
Rumi's howls — delightful though they were — were abruptly muffled, as she clamped her thighs around Mira's head. Zoey was busy at work on Rumi's neck, but had shuffled so that Mira got a clear line of sight. And a sight it was. Mira drank in Rumi's raptured expressions, the floods of new, overlapping sensations washing over her in waves.
Rumi's fingers grasped helplessly through Mira's hair as she sucked in slow pulses, and teased her from the inside out.
It had been a little while, but Mira was no stranger to working with a well-endowed partner. Mentally, she ran through her options, more than thilled to introduce Rumi to lots of exciting new sensations.
However, just as Mira was contemplating her gag reflex, Rumi let out a strangled gasp and gave an involuntary jerk of the hips.
Mira responded to the warning in the blink of an eye, repositioning just in time to avoid inhaling more than just oxygen.
Rumi's moans reverberated around their bedroom, as she throbbed and shuddered in Mira's mouth with each burst.
Mira swallowed effortlessly, stroking Rumi at the base and alternating between suction and massaging the head with her tongue.
As Rumi's twitches and moans drew softer, Mira could feel her begin to shrink back. She continued to soothe Rumi through her comedown, until Mira's lips met her softly coiled fist, and she drew back.
Mira planted one final kiss between Rumi's legs before climbing back up their bed, giving Zoey's ass a playful pat along the way.
Rumi looked beat, but she craned her head for a lingering kiss, before Mira flopped down beside her, petting Rumi's messy hair.
Mira raked her eyes over her handiwork. Two very satisfied girlfriends, snuggled in a sweaty heap. Not a bad night at all.
One of Zoey's eyes cracked open and she smiled dreamily back at Mira.
Mira beckoned with a finger quietly and gestured to Rumi's groin.
Zoey hauled herself up, peering down, and then back to Mira with raised eyebrows.
'Trans?' Zoey mouthed, idly stroking the back of her hand along Rumi's belly and over her boobs.
Mira shook her head.
Zoey shrugged with a slight smirk and took a second look. She looked back to Mira, estimating the size between her finger and thumb.
Mira shook her head again, a little glimmer in her eye. She touched both index fingers to Zoey's measurement and began drawing them apart, recalling the rough size that Rumi had topped out.
Zoey's eyebrows ascended with each inch, looking down at Mira's hands, then back up with a wide-eyed grin.
"Holy shit." She whispered, folding her arms on Rumi's chest and laying down her head.
"Well aren't you full of surprises?"
🍐
ii. Pear bonding
"Rumi…"
Mira peered at her girlfriend out of the corner of her eye, not sure how to launch into the subject. "Have you ever had… a fertility test?"
Rumi looked up from stirring the pot on the stove and munching on a carrot stick. "I don't think so."
Mira nodded with feigned nonchalance, and continued cutting up the vegetables.
"Why?" Rumi prodded at a mushroom that was escaping up the edge of the pot.
Mira sighed, "It's just been on my mind."
Rumi reached for another carrot, and Mira gently redirected her. "These ones are for you. Those are dinner."
Mira cleared her throat. "So, we've been getting more involved, right? Sexually, I mean."
Rumi nodded enthusiastically.
"Well, it's natural that things might progress. You know, different activities."
Rumi nodded, thinking about some of the videos Zoey had been showing her. There were lots of activities, it turned out.
"But since you're intersex, there's a risk we could have—"
Mira paused, trying to rephrase without using loaded terms like 'mistake' or 'accident'.
"An unexpected arrival."
There was a stale pause while they both quietly continued their tasks.
Mira set down her knife and turned Rumi around gently.
"You are intersex, right?"
Rumi cocked her head slightly.
"I'm… I mean, aren't we all?"
Mira flushed a little, "Well, Zoey isn't. And I'm… I'm, not uh…"
Rumi's eyebrows furrowed and she scratched her head with a piece of carrot.
"Well, you both seem pretty into it."
Mira blinked.
"Intersex. In-TER" Mira emphasized the syllable.
"Oh, right." Rumi nodded slowly.
"You… know what intersex means, right?"
Rumi stared blankly, scanning Mira's face for clues.
Mira scoffed bitterly, not at Rumi, but at the institution that had managed to shelter her so tightly against basic aspects of reality.
She scraped vegetables into the pot with more force than necessary, and wielded the knife into thin air.
"Why am I not surprised Celine never gave you that talk?"
As she turned to grab the spoon, her eyes drifted over Rumi, who was huddled up, looking deeply ashamed and apologetic.
"Oh… Rumi, no, it's nothing bad!" Mira added hurriedly, dropping her implements and gathering Rumi into a tight squeeze.
"Intersex means…"
Mira kissed the top of Rumi's head again and searched for a way to explain without tripping into more gaps in Rumi's sex education.
Untangling herself, Mira reached for the bowl sitting on the worktop, surveying her choices carefully. After a moment, she twirled around.
"It's like this." Mira held up a pear in one hand.
"Some people are born with a pear, usually boys."
Rumi nodded. She liked pears.
Mira held up an orange in her other hand "Some people are born with an orange, usually girls."
Rumi nodded again. She really liked oranges. Both the literal and figurative ones.
"Sometimes people are born with something in between the two."
"Grapes?" Rumi suggested.
"…Sure. Now you—" Mira gestured at Rumi and brought both pieces of fruit together "You have a pear and an orange."
Rumi took the pear gingerly from Mira's hand and her mouth watered a little. It smelled delicious.
"What usually happens when two people…?" Mira touched the orange to the end of the pear.
Rumi smiled slyly and nodded. She knew this one. "Orgasm."
Mira barked a laugh. "Okay, and then what might happen 9 months after that?"
"Oh." Rumi looked down at the pear with disappointment and betrayal.
"Even two girls though?" Rumi tried, hopefully.
Mira glanced away, "Yeah… sometimes."
—
"Do you want to eat that? I can chop it up for you?"
Mira noticed Rumi was still clutching the pear and began reaching for it.
Rumi looked horrified and coiled around it protectively.
"Okay, okay — I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Mira laughed and placed down the knife, rubbing Rumi's shoulders, "No chopping."
"Though on that subject, you're pretty lucky." Mira paused, wondering how much depth to go into. "Most intersex babies get—" Mira waggled her fingers in air quotes "—corrected."
Mira stepped across the kitchen to retrieve a strainer and Rumi shuffled along behind her, staying as close as possible.
"So I'm surprised it's never come up before. Nobody mentioned it to you?" Mira weaved over to the sink, heaving a pot and patiently stepping around Rumi, who was determined to stay in her personal space.
"Well, I don't usually let people see my… fruit."
"Sure, but not even a doctor?" Mira tipped out the contents of the pot.
"I've never seen a doctor." Rumi peered into the sink, "Oh, apart from the tonics".
"You've… right, of course you haven't." Mira shook the strainer vigourously, and dragged it to the stove, grumbling under her breath again.
Rumi tucked herself under Mira's arm, watching her dump the steaming noodles into the broth.
"How would a doctor test if—" Rumi wiggled her pear.
"Well, I think you'd provide a sample" Mira glanced down, and Rumi pointed to the tip of the pear questioningly.
Mira laughed and kissed Rumi's face. "Right, they'd look at that stuff under a microscope and see if there are tiny little Rumis swimming around in there."
"Spooky."
"Only if they have your taste for oranges."
Mira gave a final stir and tapped the spoon on the edge of the pot.
"This is done. Would you go tell Zoey it's ready?"
Rumi waited to be kissed goodbye, before unravelling herself from Mira's waist and padding around the corner towards their rooms.
Mira turned for a second to retrieve some bowls and a ladel.
"Mira—"
"Rumi!" she gasped out, glad to have held onto what she'd been carrying — this time. "Don't do that, please."
"Sorry," Rumi shuffled out of the way, "But what if demon junk… What if it doesn't work the same as humans? If it doesn't show up in tests? There's still a risk, right?"
Mira paused, setting bowls down on the table.
"I don't know." She sighed, "But we can rule out the human stuff, and… we'll figure out the rest later."
Rumi nodded.
"Until we know," Mira took Rumi by the shoulders. "Let's be careful. We can keep doing other stuff, but not that. Even if… No— especially if Zoey asks you to."
🥞
iii. Love — the kind you clean up with a mop and bucket
One of the really fun things about fucking a demon — and a demon singer at that — was that they could scream. Really scream.
Zoey found herself admiring the integrity of their windows, as Rumi threw her head into a pillow and let out another thundering growl.
"Fuck." Zoey panted, resting her forehead between Rumi's shoulder blades. "She's killing me."
"What did I tell you?" Mira stroked Rumi's hair idly with a smug smile, "Something about that position really gets her going."
Zoey took a moment to adjust the straps on her harness, then pressed forwards again, sliding between Rumi's buttocks and grinding her face-first into the mattress.
"I still think it's too big," Zoey complained as she started pulling back.
"For you, or for her?"
"Both?" Zoey panted. "I feel like I'm hitting a wall every time, I don't know how you do it."
Mira folded her hands across her middle patiently, and waited for Rumi to finish howling into the pillow.
"She can definitely take it all. But I understand if you're not comfortable. Do you want the number 9?"
"Yeah, I think so." Zoey pressed herself up off Rumi's back, and scooted her knees forward so she could begin withdrawing the toy.
"Nooooooo" Rumi wailed, flailing her arm back to try and stop Zoey from pulling out.
Zoey sighed, the very tip of the toy still burrowed between Rumi's legs.
"You really want this one?"
Rumi nodded over her shoulder then looked desperately to Mira for support.
"It's Zoey's call." Mira ruled, throwing her hands open.
Zoey looked between them both for a moment. "You're absolutely sure?"
"Please—" Rumi drew out in a whine.
Mira laughed, leaning down to Rumi's shoulder — it glistened with sweat, ripe and begging to be bitten. Rumi yelped.
"She's greedy," Mira drew back with a smirk "but she does know her limits."
Zoey sighed. "Alright."
She pressed Rumi flat against the mattress again, and shot Mira a playful glare.
"But if something happens, you can explain to the agency why Rumi is in hospital with a ruptured colon."
—
"Just gonna leave her hanging?" Mira smirked.
"Huh?" Zoey fiddled with a buckle and shimmied out of the harness.
She looked up just in time to see Mira rolling Rumi onto her back, where she lay, loose and relaxed — except for one key feature, standing to attention between her legs.
"Ohhh." Zoey crawled over with wide eyes.
"I thought she was done." Zoey's ears were still ringing a little from Rumi's vocal finale.
"Oh, she is." Mira drew a long finger down Rumi's throat. "She just needs a little aftercare. Give me your hand."
Zoey complied, and Mira guided it between Rumi's legs.
"Gently."
Their hands curled around Rumi's swollen cock, eliciting a soft sigh.
"Just under the— that's it." She nudged Zoey's thumb into position.
Mira squeezed around Zoey's hand and pulled very slowly.
Rumi's dick strained and then relaxed, a modest dash of fluid flew from the tip, leaving a creamy drizzle on Rumi's stomach.
"Ahh," Rumi sighed, relief washing over her face.
"Just like that" Mira purred, slipping her hand away so Zoey could take control.
Every stroke evoked the same response. The spurts varied in volume, but gradually tapered in velocity, until it was no more than a steady leak.
Zoey milked her softly for a few more minutes, eventually feeling Rumi's cock heave fruitlessly a few times before softening and beginning to melt away beneath Zoey's hand.
Zoey glanced to Rumi, her face a picture of blissful content — then to Mira, who was staring back like a starving animal.
"Ready to fuck me?" Zoey smirked, dangling the harness off one finger.
"Always." Mira shot back instantly, "But we should clean up first." Mira gestured at the pool of liquid ecstacy Rumi had managed to deposit all over… well, everything.
"Oh, I'm on it," Zoey chirped, diving head first into the mess.
Mira faltered, then laughed as Zoey reemerged, her chin dripping. "Not exactly what I meant."
"Hmm," Zoey smacked her lips and paused for a moment, washing the emissions around her mouth thoughtfully. "What is that? I can't put my finger on it."
"Me neither." Mira leaned forward and licked along Zoey's jaw.
"It's kinda like pancake batter." Zoey mused, as she raked her fingers over Rumi's belly, painting it around.
"Wanna put some in the waffle iron and see what happens?"
Zoey snorted, "Well, we know it isn't human cum." she pressed it between her fingers "So who knows what the hell it is."
"Ectoplasm?" Mira idly scraped their band logo onto Rumi's plastered stomach, smiling as her abs twitched against the sensation.
"Oh, that's good." Zoey peered over, "Get your camera, we can use that for the next album cover."
🔮
iv. Weighed, measured, and found wanton
"She is girl."
Mira shifted uncomfortably on her tiny stool. "Okay. But you know that because…?"
The shaman waved one wrinkled hand in Rumi's direction, her long sleeve kicking up a small cloud of incense smoke and particles.
"Can see."
Zoey heard Mira sigh impatiently at her side.
"The thing is…" Mira paused, searching for a way to succinctly describe the problem.
Zoey leaned forward, "We were just wondering, if it was possible that—" She gestured circles around Rumi's face "…Girl."
"But that also—" Zoey continued, and switched to drawing broad circles around Rumi's groin "…Boy?"
To either side of her, Mira and Rumi flushed and crossed their legs self-consciously.
The old woman peered over her glasses at Rumi, tenting her fingers patiently.
She didn't answer — perhaps growing tired of having the same question rephrased over and over in a language she could barely understand.
Her massive chair creaked ominously, as she climbed to her feet and shuffled herself and her draping robes over to a disarrayed bookshelf.
On the other side of the desk, the three hunters huddled together.
"Zoey…" Mira intoned.
Zoey cast an apologetic smile, "Sorry — she's… old, I guess."
Rumi peered transfixed through a radient orb, glimmering with pink and blue stripes of light.
"Rumi, don't touch anything. We can't risk you getting accidentally exorcised or something." Mira waited for a response, then waved her hand in Rumi's face to snap her out of the trance.
Zoey gathered Rumi's hands and held them firmly on top of Rumi's knee. "No touching."
The woman returned, dropping an enormous tome on her desk with a thud, sending leaves of parchment and dust in every direction.
A crooked finger beckoned the girls over, and they leaned over the pages.
"Male." The woman tapped a long nail over an ornate etching of a demon's head and shoulders.
The same nail raked down the page to another, equally repulsive, demon.
"Girl." She enunciated, jabbing the page, and then the air in front of Rumi's face.
Mira frowned, looking between the two pictures, struggling to determine any recognisable femininity or masculinity between the two — let alone any resemblance to Rumi.
"And are there any pictures of…" Zoey gestured to her crotch.
The woman chuckled knowingly, and raised her eyebrows with a smile.
"Not that type of book."
"So there are some types of book?" Zoey piped up, getting elbowed from both directions. "For research purposes, obviously."
The woman jotted some notes in an indecipherable script, and slid it along the desk. Zoey smiled thinly, immediately smudging the ink on her fingers.
"Wait so, you're saying there are differences though?" Mira locked eyes with the woman, "It is possible to tell if a demon has 'male' genitals, or 'female'?" She waggled her fingers in air quotes, visibly cringing as she said it.
The woman narrowed her eyes and nodded slightly in a way that wasn't easy to tell if she was answering, or if she had not understood a word of the question.
"Yes…" She drew out the word carefully. "Male and girl have different." The woman smiled warmly, as though Mira was a tiny child struggling with the most basic concepts of sex education.
Mira turned beet red. "I'm—oh, nope." suddenly she stopped, pressing her fingers into her eyes and freezing as though she had tripped a fuse and powered down.
Zoey rubbed a small circle on her back while her girlfriend counted under her breath.
Rumi placed her palm on the desk decisively.
"We just… Is there any way you could… check?" She nodded subtly towards her lap.
The woman stared at Rumi a moment, her cloudy, ancient eyes piercing straight through Rumi's plane of existence.
She shrugged her shoulders.
"I check."
—
"Finish." The woman announced, snapping back the curtain.
Rumi's adrenaline spiked, and she scurried to pull up her pants — in the process almost knocking into a shelf of filthy bottles and specimen jars.
The woman placed a protractor-like implement back onto the bureau, and settled into her chair with another monsterous creak.
Zoey sat upright, loosening her death grip on Mira's hand and grasping at Rumi as soon as she came back into reach.
"Well?" Mira prompted.
"Girl." The woman shrugged loftily.
"So," Zoey wiggled a finger in the air, "Normal… For a demon?"
Mira elbowed her gently.
"—Not that it wouldn't be normal for a human girl too, of course!" Zoey added pointedly.
"Mmhm, normal for girl. Easy to tell. Only male demon have…" She made an inscrutable gesture, like weighing a bag of flour in one hand.
"And she very—" The woman chuckled and wiggled her pinky finger "Mmhm, very small for demon. Even girl."
Rumi's head snapped up at the dimunition of her demonhood.
"It's… a cold day!" she muttered indignantly.
Zoey squeezed Rumi's hand, failing catastrophically to suppress a grin, "She's a grower."
Mira ignored them and let out a long breath. "Okay. Well that's… Good to know."
"But just to be sure," Mira raised her index finger "Demon girl…" and made a loose fist with her other hand "Human girl…"
She poked her finger through her fist without breaking eye contact "…Not pregnant?"
"Hypothetically speaking, of course." Zoey cut in.
The woman pursed her lips and tented her fingers again, glancing at Rumi with a tiny smirk.
"Girl and girl, no baby."
"Even girl with…?" Mira tucked in her chin and wiggled her finger again.
The woman shook her head.
Mira chewed her lip, not entirely satisfied with this answer.
"Human and human…" The woman rocked her hand in a 'maybe' gesture, and Mira's eyebrows shot up. Zoey and Rumi both glanced in her direction.
"Not demon girl. Demon girl have no…" She weighed her hand in Rumi's direction, and rolled her eyes searching for the translation "No spores."
"Huh." Mira sat back, slightly stunned. "She's saying you have a seedless pear, Rumi."
Rumi returned her playful smirk.
"So, definitely, absolutely, no way — no baby." Zoey summarized, pressing her hands together.
The woman shook her head. "Want demon child, only male."
The woman wafted a leaf of paper to dry the ink this time, then pressed it across the desk.
Mira leaned forward, rummaging for her purse. "Is this the receipt for the appointment?"
"Demon males, very reliable. Call. Get anything you need."
"Oh, erm, thank you… but that's… No. Thank you."
Rumi nudged the paper out of Zoey's reach.
📚
v. So now you're a demonfucker
"Hurry up." Mira hissed, getting more anxious by the second, as people poured in through the main entrance of the library.
Zoey waved her arm behind her back impatiently, continuing to yap away with the librarian behind the counter. "Oh, really? Audiobooks too. That's interesting, I can never—"
Mira sighed and tapped her foot in frustration. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a small group looking in their direction. She fiddled with the collar of her trenchcoat impatiently.
She glanced at Rumi, who was completely engrossed in Zoey's phone.
Since discovering how to sign up for social media sites, Rumi had not been allowed a phone with internet access. There was fan engagement, and then there was Rumi, the workaholic, with no boundaries, and no sense that browsing #huntrix could surface some… niche content.
Mira glanced casually over her shoulder, noticing with irritation that another small cluster of people had slowed down and were peering in their direction.
"How do they even…" Mira looked again at Rumi, and realised for the first time today that she was wearing a cropped vest. Rumi's patterns were all completely on show, shimmering very slightly under the ugly fluorescent lighting.
Mira considered the options. Blowing up the lobby to create a distraction seemed plausible. Murdering everyone in the building could work in a pinch.
But what was absolutely not an option was politely suggesting that Rumi could untie the jacket around her waist, and drape it across her shoulders.
No, Mira would wipe this whole campus off the map before telling her girlfriend to cover up her skin. Just thinking about it raised the hairs on her arms and neck.
"Eep!" Rumi started and flicked out of whatever social app she should not have been browsing.
Mira's arms tightened around her shoulders, pulling Rumi into a tighter cuddle and enveloping her inside the coat.
Rumi relaxed back against her, and Mira's heart melted. She inhaled a lungful of Rumi's hair.
Rumi sighed and shimmied her ass back against Mira's crotch.
Things were only going to go downhill from there.
"Okay!" Zoey clapped her hands together urgently "Let's go!"
Mira looked up from kissing Rumi's neck, and dropped her hands abruptly from Rumi's chest. A hand wriggled through hers and began dragging Mira away, and she shot an apologetic smile back to the alarmed stares of the reception staff.
—
"Do we really need all of these?" Mira strained, continuing to push the heavy cart, loaded with yellowing, dusty-looking tomes.
Zoey shot a glare over her shoulder. It had taken her days to track down all of these books.
"Maybe. We don't know which ones will be useful until we look."
"Over here?" In front of them, Rumi emerged behind a corner, pointing to an empty cubicle.
"Okay, fine." Mira answered to Zoey, as they hustled toward Rumi's table. "But how will we know? Most of these aren't even in Korean."
Zoey raised two fingers. "One, they might have… pictures." She nodded toward Rumi. "And two, we can use your porno app."
"My— what??" Mira stopped in her tracks.
"Give me your phone." Zoey held out her hand, eyebrows raised.
Mira shuffled awkwardly "No… Why?"
"The app you use to translate those dirty Japanese comics"
"I… no." Mira scoffed and theatrically waved her hand.
As someone whose habit was to engage in very intense eye-contact, it was conspicuous when she suddenly refused to look in Zoey's direction. "I don't know how those keep getting onto my phone."
Zoey crossed her arms flatly.
Mira squirmed.
"…Okay, but I will hold the phone."
—
"Why are these titles so looooong?" Zoey threw back her head.
"Let me see?" Mira leant over the pamphlet, waving her phone camera to try and bring the scratchy text into focus.
"Matters pertinent for he who would besmirch his eternal soul to covet that which is at once most accursed and alluring… yadda yadda… advice wherein… liaisons of a biblical nature…"
"Huh." Mira sat back in her chair.
"Did you understand any of that?" Zoey leant in to read the paragraph-long translation.
"I think it says: 'So now you're a demonfucker'" Mira smirked.
"Damn, they got me there."
Zoey tossed it onto their reading pile.
—
"This is…um," Rumi paused, searching for the phrasing. "Very descriptive."
Mira set her phone down on the desk.
"I think some of these books are just smut." Mira sighed, rubbing her eyes and cracking open an energy drink as quietly as possible.
"It could be true, I guess." Rumi peeled through the pages cautiously.
"Or some weirdo's sick fetish material." Mira crossed her arms. "I mean, who reads this stuff?!"
Rumi eyes flickered down to Mira's phone and then back to Mira.
"I… I don't know how those keep—"
"Mira?" Zoey cut in, scooting her chair over. "Take a look at this."
Mira turned to the outstretched page.
"Pfffft!" Mira coughed and sputtered, having ejected soda both into her own lungs and all over the desk.
"Right?" Zoey stared wide-eyed down at the book, barely registering Mira's brush with death.
"I guess that's what that meant." Zoey mimed the 'weighing a bag of flour' gesture that the shaman had made.
Mira coughed once more and croaked: "Fuck, I knew it took big balls to pick a fight with hunters, but that is ridiculous."
"Where do you think those Saja Boys were hiding it?" Zoey mused.
"Maybe they were eunuchs." Mira laughed.
"Just my type." Zoey nudged her gently and winked.
"Do they have any pictures of the females?"
They both leaned over the book, scanning the giant pages documenting thousands of different parts, and shapes, and patterns.
"Wait, wait, go back." Mira flicked pages back and forth to find what she had glanced in the corner of her eye.
"This one." She flattened out the page.
"Damn." Zoey whispered after a few moments of stunned silence.
They both stared at the illustration of the horned, tusked, striped, and — most importantly — nude demon, then looked over at Rumi.
"Huh?" Her head snapped up from where she had been playing with Mira's unattended phone.
"Rumi, that shaman wasn't kidding about you being kinda…" Zoey wiggled her pinky.
Rumi frowned, and scooted over to see.
"Oh."
"Yeah… So demon girls are just… like that, huh." Mira curled an arm around Rumi's waist.
Rumi shuffled, turning red and looking away from the page. "Well, I'm only half demon. So it's not a fair comparison."
Mira's eyes flicked to Zoey, and they shared a brief surge of adoration for her.
"Bigger isn't better, Rumi." Zoey reached over and ruffled her hair. "Not for humans at least."
Mira cleared her throat, turning a new page. "Case in point…"
Zoey and Rumi leaned in, both cocking their heads slightly, trying to make sense of what appeared to be… a gigantic demon orgy?
Male demons, female demons. A few tortured-looking humans thrown in there for scale. Everyone's dick out and proud, standing to full attention.
"Holy shit…" Zoey's mouth fell open. "Is this supposed to be… hell? "
"How do they even fit those things inside?" Rumi wondered, not noticing Mira stamp on Zoey's foot under the table.
"Why does his… have those… those…" Mira gaped, miming spikes with her fingers.
"Okay then!" Rumi snapped the book shut and sat up straight.
All three stared contemplatively into the middle distance.
"Well." Mira tentatively cut into the silence.
"Now we know." Rumi said, robotically.
Zoey smiled.
"Yeah… We know that Rumi's mom was a fuckin' freak."
🪐
vi. Bottoming from the top
The mattress jerked and Rumi's eyes flickered open, losing her rhythm as she felt herself getting dragged forward.
"Don't move." Mira braced against Rumi's chest, staring up from where she had been busy making a chewtoy out of Zoey's neck.
Rumi froze, obediently.
"Noooooo…" Zoey pleaded from underneath, her whole body curling inwards as her thighs strained against Rumi's waist.
Rumi stayed still, thinking — or trying to think — about anything other than her dick half-buried in the girl beneath her.
After an eternity, Zoey's tantrum subsided with one final thrash against her wrist restraints.
For a few moments nobody moved, before Mira leaned in and murmured something sharp in Zoey's ear.
Zoey grumbled, but metered out a whiny "yes…" before Mira reared up and knelt next to Rumi.
"Sorry Rumi. Are you ready?" Mira wiped a few beads of sweat from Rumi's brow.
Rumi shook her head firmly, clenching her fists into the bedsheets again, trying resist the insistent throbbing in her crotch.
Mira cupped Rumi's chin with one hand and stared, it always felt, directly into her soul.
"If you want to stop, just say the word."
Rumi frowned, shaking her head even harder.
Mira smiled patiently and nodded, "Okay. Then just relax."
She kissed the corner of Rumi's mouth, then along her jaw to her ear. "It's going to feel so good, Rumi."
Rumi groaned.
"You're doing so well." Mira purred.
Rumi melted; without a second thought, she complied with the palm pressing into the small of her back. Rumi rocked her hips forwards and shuddered at how existentially right it felt to sink all the way back inside her mate.
"That's it. One stroke at a time."
—
Rumi tried. Really, she did.
Of all the things one could say about Rumi, nobody could claim she didn't do her very best to meet a challenge.
Only it turned out it wasn't so simple to clear your mind and focus on your strokes.
Not when one lover was breathing sugar-coated commands in your ear, and raking her nails over your back.
And not when another lover was crushing your pelvis with between her thighs and begging — literally begging — for another inch of your cock.
It was especially not easy when your nervous system was being electrocuted with every. tiny. fucking. movement.
But it's fine! It's fine.
Because there's only one more stroke, Rumi.
Just one more, and we can all finally relax. It's going to feel so good. You're doing so well.
"She's nearly there." Mira's teeth pinched Rumi's earlobe, and the jolt ripped straight through her body, exploding at the tip of her cock.
"Not helping!" Rumi meant to say, but could only gather enough coordination for a desperate whine.
Feeling confident that Rumi could make it the rest of the way, Mira nestled down next to Zoey, deftly undoing the ribbon binding her hands to the headboard.
Mira folded an arm behind her head, taking the opportunity to drink in the little chorus of grunts and whimpers from both participants.
Zoey was an artwork; every sensation that girl felt was being written into the creases and furrows of her face. Every time Rumi hit paydirt, Mira watched the ripple of pleasure cascading from Zoey's tightening thighs, to the tensing in her stomach, the heaving in her chest, before escaping as a deep moan in her throat.
Rumi wasn't doing much better. Every withdrawal carved a trench between Rumi's eyebrows. She would gnash her sharp teeth and tense every muscle, shuddering with the sheer effort of pulling out. With every stroke forwards, Rumi's eyes would roll, her jaw would slacken, and her whole body would crumple and relax in an instant.
Mira felt a vibration in her own throat echoing Rumi's blissful howls, and every hair on Mira's body raised to attention. In her periphery, she noticed Zoey's head drop back, and heard her draw in a ragged breath.
Showtime.
Mira smirked and nipped Zoey's collarbone, preparing her next words with calculated precision.
"That's it — come for me. Good girl."
At once, both Zoey and Rumi both let out a tortured moan, unintentionally harmonizing.
Exactly on schedule, Zoey's entire body began to seize up. She bore down, digging her heels into Rumi's ass, back arching off the bed.
"Mira??" Rumi yelped urgently.
Mira tore her eyes off Zoey's sequence of raptured expressions, towards Rumi's pleading eyes.
Mira nodded.
The tension wiped off Rumi's face in an instant and she collapsed to her elbows, abandoning all of her structure and restraint.
If Rumi had found it difficult to maintain her composure before, now it was outright impossible.
Every last inch of Rumi's dick was being rubbed and gripped, wrung and bathed. Each clench and ripple from Zoey's body fired shockwaves up Rumi's spine, accompanied with a torrent of pleasure.
Her skin was burning, the tips of her toes were sparking. Her dick was the center of the universe, expanding in every direction. It was overwhelming to say the least.
But even still, there was something calling to her. Some ancient instinct — an urge weaved into the very fabric of Rumi's DNA — and it commanded her to go deeper. Rumi growled out in frustration, rutting her hips reflexively despite long since bottoming out.
Meanwhile, Zoey's hands gripped at Rumi's back, pulling her closer, until it was no longer possible to discern where one body ended and the other began. Every time Rumi would piledrive their hips into the mattress, Zoey chanted her name in worship.
Mira enjoyed the show with rapt attention, her mouth hanging open and her heart hammering out of her chest watching her lovers ride out their high.
She could see each fresh wave of orgasm hitting Rumi like a freight train. Her head would snap up, eyes flying open, and lips peeling back into an almost tormented snarl. Finally, she would empty her lungs with a protracted groan, before dropping forward to work on the next one.
Eventually, Zoey let out a long, thoroughly contented sigh, letting her loose body mold around Rumi, whose movements were becoming increasingly languid.
Before long, they were just rocking together gently, soothing themselves and basking in each other's warmth.
For a while, all three lay snuggled together, catching their breath. Every so often, Rumi or Zoey would twitch involuntarily, triggering a grunt or a sigh from the other.
Mira recovered first, as she usually did, and draped a blanket over the sweaty pile of indistinguishable limbs to her side.
—
Some time later, Zoey craned her head up, squinting and blinking the sleep out of her eyes.
Mira looked over and grinned, patting down Zoey's tousled bedhead.
"Who let you be so cute?"
They shared a kiss, before Zoey flopped back down on the pillow.
"So did she get a good grade?" Zoey joked, her voice a little hoarse.
Mira looked up from writing in her book, and gave a lopsided smirk.
"Well, would you mark her down for anything?"
Zoey thought for a moment. "Headbutting me in the tits?"
"That was an accident. And pretty funny."
"You, on the other hand. Two strikes, Zoey. Tsk tsk." Mira wagged her pen. Zoey pouted unapologetically with a glance at the restraints still hanging loosely from the headboard.
Mira turned back to the notes, pushing up her glasses and reading her commentary aloud while Zoey nodded along and chipped in with her thoughts.
"So," Mira concluded, snapping the little book closed. "I'd say it was an overwhelming success."
"An overwhelming success." Zoey repeated loudly, petting Rumi's hair.
"Hmmm?" Rumi peeled her face up, and looked around blearily. One side of her face was pink from being fused with sweat onto Zoey's boob.
"Hi cutie." Mira leaned in for a kiss. "Doing okay?"
Rumi nodded; while her brain slowly booted up, she accepted gulps of water from the bottle being passed between the three.
It slowly dawned on Rumi that she was still… intimately connected… with Zoey. Was staying inside normal? Expected? Would it be rude to take it out, or was it inconsiderate to keep it in? Should she ask permission? Stay quiet and enjoy it a little longer? This detail hadn't been covered in the videos.
Rumi zoned back into the conversation.
Zoey laughed, "No, thank you for facilitating." She twirled her hair flirtatiously.
Mira smiled modestly, "Well, it was — and I mean this quite literally — my pleasure."
"Oh, the pleasure was all mine."
Rumi averted her gaze until the two stopped kissing.
"Rumi's too." Mira added with a grin, as they broke away and both turned attention towards Rumi.
Rumi looked between them both, becoming increasingly self-conscious. Her cheeks burned hotter with every passing second as she thought about her dilemma. Had they noticed? How could they not? They must be silently judging her! Fuck, she might never be allowed to do this again!
"I'm sorry!" Rumi blurted out.
"I didn't know if I should I take it out, or, or, or, or… leave it in??"
The pair glanced at each other and cracked up. Zoey's whole body shook with laughter, which — Rumi noted — was not helping the situation at hand.
"Rumi… never stop being you, okay?" Mira stroked her cheek with a huge grin. She leaned in slightly, "You can keep your dick in there, if you want to."
"You earnt it, stud." Zoey added, winking.
"That's right. We were just discussing how great you did tonight."
Rumi's voracious appetite for praise kicked in and overrode all of her embarrassment.
"Oh, heh, well." she murmured, rolling her eyes and failing to suppress a smirk.
"Mmhm. You were very attentive." Zoey chipped in.
"And focussed."
"Great control, stamina."
"Excellent at obeying instructions."
"Absolutely flawless dick game."
"Flawless dick, period."
"The perfect size."
Rumi groaned in completely fake protest and buried her face back into Zoey's cleavage.
She felt two pairs of hands stroking her head and her back, while her favorite people in the world continued to overload her with encouragement and compliments.
Rumi was struck with a discomfiting wave of emotion and blinked away the tears that had begun roaring in her ears.
"More importantly — Rumi, how did you find it?"
Rumi sniffled and rested her chin on Zoey's sternum.
"It was…" She paused, realising she hadn't considered the answer ahead of time.
It had never occurred to Rumi that topping would be so much work. Mira made it look so easy. But there was so much counting, and breathing, and following instructions. And the core workout! If she didn't have abs yesterday, she was confident she would wake up tomorrow with a 6— no, an 8-pack at least.
And that wasn't to mention the aching… Never in her life had Rumi denied her dick anything and everything it wanted. Never had she paused mid-stroke, nor tempered her speed, nor been required to focus on anything other than fulfilling her end of their mutually beneficial agreement.
But tonight Rumi had discovered that her cock had very strong feelings about interruptions, and it would voice those opinions loudly and persistently, no regard for consequence or rationality.
Even still, all considered, humping the furniture and beating off in the shower was nothing compared with sex. Rumi wiggled her hips very slightly and shivered — oh yeah, nothing like that.
And certainly not when that had happened with the two people who — if the claims were to be believed…or the actions…or the soft looks, the touches, the emotional vulnerability, the undying devotion…
Two people who — if all this was to be believed — might, in fact, possibly be, just a little bit, …in love with Rumi.
How could anything compare?
Rumi burst out crying.
"Oh my god, Rumi!"
"Holy shit, are you okay?"
"We promise we won't make you top again?!"