Needs, {Mei/Mulan/Su/Ting-Ting} {1/2}afterandalasiaSeptember 2 2014, 17:31:10 UTC
Su is the one with the eye for knots, Mulan discovers. Those clever fingers can weave the silk into bonds around her ankles to keep her legs apart, around her hands to bind them high into the air. Just tight enough to restrain her, so that she can pull against them, but never so tight that they bruise.
Her hair tumbles over her face as she leans in to brush her lips against Mulan's cheek, and she giggles when Mulan tries to pull against the bonds. "No, my brave warrior," she says, trailing her hands down Mulan's chest. "Not yet." Her breasts sway as she speaks, and she wiggles her hips when she catches Mulan looking, bending down to plant soft sucking kisses across her chest. Smears of coral lipstick trail in her wake. Her fingers trace Mulan's thighs, coming up almost so high as to brush against the curls that cover her sex, but she does not touch and leaves Mulan aching and twisting in the bonds.
Ting-Ting is the one who likes the most having the flogger in her hand. She runs the leather handle beneath Mulan's chin, and does not speak, but smiles wickedly with her lips painted red. The blows start soft, or as soft as can be done with the leather straps, almost stroking Mulan's thighs and pussy, building slowly in strength. Mulan moans as the leather bites into her skin, strains against the bonds that hold her safely back. She grows wetter and feels her skin grow hotter as Ting-Ting's flogger does it work, until the straps finally, expertly, strike her clit and she cries out, back arching and muscles cording in bursts of pleasure.
It is Mei, though, who has the most skilled fingers. She presses her pink-stained kisses to Mulan's lower back, to the curves of her ass, and slips those skilled fingers between Mulan's thighs and into her. A tilt of her wrist to make Mulan shudder, and she knows that she has found the spot, and she rocks her hand slowly at first then with increasing speed. Her sisters have already started the work, with the bonds that make Mulan squirm and the flogger that makes her scream, but it is Mei who completes it, her fingers filling Mulan and finding that perfect place, each thrust building pleasure like the pressure-wave of an explosion inside her.
Mulan half-sobs, hair falling over her face, and Su pushes it back and kisses her sweat-beaded forehead. She tries to thrust back against Mei's hands, but a swat of the flogger across her belly is enough to remind her of whose she is this night. A shudder runs through her, then another, but she cannot help the pooling heat between her thighs, the breath that runs short, the yearning for release that coils within her. A hand wraps around her chin, and she is made to look up, to see Su's soft curves and Ting-Ting's taut lines both, and then Ting-Ting's lips are upon hers, tongue between her lips. Su kisses her breasts again, draws a nipple into her mouth to lave it with her tongue, and Mei pressed her lips to the hollow of Mulan's back where her sweat is pooling.
Needs, {Mei/Mulan/Su/Ting-Ting} {2/2}afterandalasiaSeptember 2 2014, 17:31:35 UTC
Ting-Ting bites down upon her lip, and it is that which tips Mulan into her climax, screaming into the princess's mouth, fluid gushing down between her thighs. She moans into Ting-Ting's shoulder, but Mei is asking in honeyed tones if she wishes to come again, and Mulan cannot find her tongue to reply. They know that she would refuse if she wished to, and Mei's fingers start their work again, running over the swollen, pleasured-sore folds of her pussy, slipping into her again. This time, Mulan is already close, her nerves still thrumming with pleasure, and when the handle of the flogger is pushed between her lips she bites down on it and comes again, harder, with stars behind her eyelids and a rush of wet heat from her cunt, soaking down into the bed on which they lay.
Now it is Su who asks if she wishes for more, and tightens the rope that holds up Mulan's arms where her shaking legs now struggle to support her. Mulan nods with a whimper, and this time Mei thrusts hard with her fingers, making Mulan's hips buck with each touch as errant bursts of pleasure spark through her. She moans, pulls against her bonds again, but she does not even wish to stop the relentless fingers, the skilful touch that winds and winds through her as fierce as wildfire until, with a blistering crash and an unmuffled scream, she comes for the third time.
It consumes her, rushing through in waves that make her thighs quake, her chest heave, pleasure red and gold and brilliant devouring her as the three mouths of the princesses trace her skin and their hands envelop her. Mulan shatters, her orgasm running down her skin as the waves recede and she gasps for air.
Her eyes closed, she is not even sure which one of them it is that unties her, that lays her down on a different, dry area of the sheets. But all of them embrace her, whisper to her filthy and sweet and adoring things, telling her over and over that this is the least that they could do. She showed them what their needs were, they said; it was only right that they should help with hers. Shang would not understand this, with his surprisingly gentle hands and kisses even when Mulan threw him to the bed with the intention to fuck him rather than to make love. But it had been Ting-Ting who had pointed out that they had been raised among the wives and concubines of the Forbidden City, and that they were rather harder to shock. And even Su's laughter took on a wicked, knowing tone.
"Our warrior," Su whispers now in her ear, and Mei adds: "Our guardian." Ting-Ting says nothing, just purrs as she kisses Mulan's breasts.
There will be bruises on her thighs tomorrow, faint and blue but there all the same to remind her of this. She will wash away the coral-pink-red marks from the mouths of the princesses, the sweat, the tears, will wipe dry her thighs and stand tall again. But that will be for then, and for now she allows herself to be held by the three of them, feeling free even as she is held tightly in place.
Her hair tumbles over her face as she leans in to brush her lips against Mulan's cheek, and she giggles when Mulan tries to pull against the bonds. "No, my brave warrior," she says, trailing her hands down Mulan's chest. "Not yet." Her breasts sway as she speaks, and she wiggles her hips when she catches Mulan looking, bending down to plant soft sucking kisses across her chest. Smears of coral lipstick trail in her wake. Her fingers trace Mulan's thighs, coming up almost so high as to brush against the curls that cover her sex, but she does not touch and leaves Mulan aching and twisting in the bonds.
Ting-Ting is the one who likes the most having the flogger in her hand. She runs the leather handle beneath Mulan's chin, and does not speak, but smiles wickedly with her lips painted red. The blows start soft, or as soft as can be done with the leather straps, almost stroking Mulan's thighs and pussy, building slowly in strength. Mulan moans as the leather bites into her skin, strains against the bonds that hold her safely back. She grows wetter and feels her skin grow hotter as Ting-Ting's flogger does it work, until the straps finally, expertly, strike her clit and she cries out, back arching and muscles cording in bursts of pleasure.
It is Mei, though, who has the most skilled fingers. She presses her pink-stained kisses to Mulan's lower back, to the curves of her ass, and slips those skilled fingers between Mulan's thighs and into her. A tilt of her wrist to make Mulan shudder, and she knows that she has found the spot, and she rocks her hand slowly at first then with increasing speed. Her sisters have already started the work, with the bonds that make Mulan squirm and the flogger that makes her scream, but it is Mei who completes it, her fingers filling Mulan and finding that perfect place, each thrust building pleasure like the pressure-wave of an explosion inside her.
Mulan half-sobs, hair falling over her face, and Su pushes it back and kisses her sweat-beaded forehead. She tries to thrust back against Mei's hands, but a swat of the flogger across her belly is enough to remind her of whose she is this night. A shudder runs through her, then another, but she cannot help the pooling heat between her thighs, the breath that runs short, the yearning for release that coils within her. A hand wraps around her chin, and she is made to look up, to see Su's soft curves and Ting-Ting's taut lines both, and then Ting-Ting's lips are upon hers, tongue between her lips. Su kisses her breasts again, draws a nipple into her mouth to lave it with her tongue, and Mei pressed her lips to the hollow of Mulan's back where her sweat is pooling.
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Now it is Su who asks if she wishes for more, and tightens the rope that holds up Mulan's arms where her shaking legs now struggle to support her. Mulan nods with a whimper, and this time Mei thrusts hard with her fingers, making Mulan's hips buck with each touch as errant bursts of pleasure spark through her. She moans, pulls against her bonds again, but she does not even wish to stop the relentless fingers, the skilful touch that winds and winds through her as fierce as wildfire until, with a blistering crash and an unmuffled scream, she comes for the third time.
It consumes her, rushing through in waves that make her thighs quake, her chest heave, pleasure red and gold and brilliant devouring her as the three mouths of the princesses trace her skin and their hands envelop her. Mulan shatters, her orgasm running down her skin as the waves recede and she gasps for air.
Her eyes closed, she is not even sure which one of them it is that unties her, that lays her down on a different, dry area of the sheets. But all of them embrace her, whisper to her filthy and sweet and adoring things, telling her over and over that this is the least that they could do. She showed them what their needs were, they said; it was only right that they should help with hers. Shang would not understand this, with his surprisingly gentle hands and kisses even when Mulan threw him to the bed with the intention to fuck him rather than to make love. But it had been Ting-Ting who had pointed out that they had been raised among the wives and concubines of the Forbidden City, and that they were rather harder to shock. And even Su's laughter took on a wicked, knowing tone.
"Our warrior," Su whispers now in her ear, and Mei adds: "Our guardian." Ting-Ting says nothing, just purrs as she kisses Mulan's breasts.
There will be bruises on her thighs tomorrow, faint and blue but there all the same to remind her of this. She will wash away the coral-pink-red marks from the mouths of the princesses, the sweat, the tears, will wipe dry her thighs and stand tall again. But that will be for then, and for now she allows herself to be held by the three of them, feeling free even as she is held tightly in place.
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