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seriousficTitle: Two For One Deal
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,613
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan/Cara/Kahlan
Author’s notes:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iteari betaed this. Huzzah!
Spoilers: 2x11 - Torn.
Summary: Kahlan gets in touch with her feminine side. Cara watches.
Kahlan was beside herself. This wasn’t a saying, it was literal. The Confessor’s white robes starkly contrasted with the black travel dress the other Kahlan had adopted. They sat together in the supplicant’s position, guarded by Cara, who was the only one that could contain them while Richard and Zedd gathered the ingredients for the spell that would merge them back together. The Mord’Sith sprawled indulgently in the Mother Confessor’s chair, knowing this irritated them both. The Confessor thought it was a sort of punishment for threatening her Lord Rahl. Kahlan thought she was jealous.
“Richard’s been gone a long time,” Kahlan said, unable to keep the worry out of her voice any longer. “Are you sure he’s alright?”
The Confessor sighed, not bothering to disguise her exasperation. How could any sane individual think that she could do her duty while weighted down with this inane sentimentality? “He’s been gone half an hour. He’s fine.” She went back to glaring at Cara
“How can he do this to me?” Kahlan demanded, retaining the persistence of her old self. “Did I displease him? I know I’m not the most experienced woman he’s ever been with… he’s probably been with lots of women… prettier than me… Mord’Sith sluts…”
“Would you stop prattling on?” the Confessor barked. “He’s doing this to you because he’s like me. All he cares about is his quest, and to complete the quest he needs us in one body, so in we go regardless of what anyone anywhere thinks. In short, he doesn’t care.”
Kahlan broke down, not sobbing, just holding her head in her hands and making strangled little noises. Not even Cara could watch. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way! We were together! We kissed, we… that’s what happens at the end, when the fairy tale is over and they live happily ever after.”
The Confessor could dimly recall the fairy tales of her… their youth. She’d never found one glimmering of them in the real world. “The fairy tale’s been over for a while now.”
Kahlan wiped away her nascent tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she repeated, centering herself. “There were so many things we never… did.”
The pause triggered the Confessor’s instincts. She glanced at Kahlan, finally interested in her. “Things.”
“You know…” Kahlan glanced away.
“Sex, you mean?”
Still looking away, Kahlan nodded. Then, “No, love.”
The Confessor sidled closer. Although she’d never admit it, she hadn’t had much chance to indulge either. Prince Fyren was handsome enough, but it was clear that his fascistic tendencies were compensating for a lack in other areas. She’d meant to recruit others, as there were surely many who would prefer her bed to the gallows, but Richard’s arrival had curtailed that.
With a glance to ascertain that Cara was still toying with her Agiels, the Confessor said “Such as?”
“Well, you know…” Kahlan leaned in close to whisper. “He never brushed a strand of hair out of my face.”
It was a wonder, the Confessor mused, that she’d been able to avoid walking off a cliff back when she’d had this fawning creature inside her. But, there happened to be a strand of hair that had wandered across Kahlan’s brow.
The Confessor gallantly brushed it aside. “What else?”
Kahlan looked to the left, the right, then down, as if she were about to divulge the secrets of the Underworld. “I wanted him to take my head in his hands… his big, strong hands… and kiss me so hard I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to!” She sounded a little breathless at the end.
The Confessor put her hands on either side of Kahlan’s face “My hands are strong.” She knew it was crazy, maybe even a sin against the spirits, but Kahlan looked strangely attractive when she was vulnerable and alone. It roused the Confessor’s protective nature.
Kahlan seemed to be on the side of right and good. “We can’t. You’re not… I’m not…”
“Why not? Who else knows how we need to be touched? How we need to be kissed?” The Confessor had no more time to waste on romance. Let this be about silly feelings for the other her, for herself it was lust and defiance. One last chance to impose her order on the world. She kissed Kahlan, hard and long, projecting her superiority for every crushing moment before releasing her. “How good it feels to let loose.”
Kahlan touched her lips tentatively, as if checking for blood on them. Finally, she almost whimpered “I dreamt he would rip my clothes off.”
“That can be arranged.”
Slowly, like every movement was an indulgence, the Confessor took hold of Kahlan’s blouse with either hand. Kahlan was breathing hard, her face flushed and reddening as the Confessor’s fingers clinched tighter and tighter over her breasts. With a glance over at Cara, who was leaning intently forward in her chair, the Confessor ripped the dress open. It split down the neckline, then parted further as the Confessor continued to exert herself. Even the hardened leather woven into the dress couldn’t resist her, and Kahlan actually panted as she was exposed to the cool air.
The Confessor smiled as she regarded Kahlan’s heaving breasts. She ran a hand from Kahlan’s throat to her belly before straightening the dress that hung off her in tatters. “How long we’ve dreamed of having someone else’s hands on us instead of our own.” Her finger traced a curving path between Kahlan’s nipples, finding them hard as marble. “I suppose this counts.”
Kahlan was nearly hyperventilating, her eyes brimming with love and arousal. She surged up and kissed the Confessor, hands locking around her throat and jaw clumsily. Despite all her excitement, once the Confessor opened her mouth the kiss became languid and satisfied, Kahlan’s tongue gently massaging its double. For her part, the Confessor enjoyed the feel of their breasts flattening as their bodies crushed together. When that bored her, she let her hands slide over Kahlan’s body. It was an intoxicating combination of the familiar and the exotic. Her own body, divided from her. Virgin territory, the Confessor thought with a smirk as she clutched at Kahlan’s body, pulling them together to make the kiss that much deeper.
The sound of Cara’s boots tapping across the floor was the only thing that could rouse either Kahlan. They looked over to see her a foot away, hands on her hips. Kahlan looked like a teenager caught with black lotus in her pockets, while the Confessor only needed one look at Cara to see the blush of red heat exposed by that ridiculously low-cut bodice. Richard’s little Mord’Sith was enjoying the show.
“Can I help you?” the Confessor asked, ushering Kahlan’s head down to rest against her shoulder. She knew she had once craved such casual intimacy almost as much as sex.
“What are you doing?” Cara demanded, her voice extra curt to cover up the arousal.
“Masturbation, technically.” The Confessor raised her eyebrows at Cara, a challenge, a question, then wrenched Kahlan’s head back by the hair. Kahlan was so excited she actually giggled, and the Confessor felt the sudden need to wipe out that giggle. Her lips came down on Kahlan’s without tenderness or mercy, swallowing down her gasp of surprise, fucking her tongue into Kahlan’s willing mouth.
Cara watched, enraptured, squeezing her Agiel like she was trying to milk more pain out of it. The Confessor knew she used that pain to keep her centered. It gave her an idea.
Straddling the bench, the Confessor caressed Kahlan’s cheek apologetically. Kahlan was literally trembling with the force of the arousal inside her, too long denied. Like a guttering fire flooded with oxygen, it was bursting out of her. The Confessor stroked her face again, closing her eyes with her fingers, and Kahlan whimpered. “Take me. Please, take me.”
“I intend to,” the Confessor drawled, lowering Kahlan to the cold stone of the bench, before turning to Cara. The eye contact burnt Cara, adding fuel to the same kind of fire that raged inside Kahlan.
Slowly, the Confessor drew herself up until they were eye to eye. Cara’s hands were clenched around her Agiel like tightly wound rope. It didn’t stop the Confessor from ripping the Agiel from her grasp in one swift motion. The pain was bearable, just. She dropped it to the floor with a clang that echoed through the chamber. Breath exploded from Cara like she’d been struck.
“She wants it, Cara,” the Confessor said, seeing Cara’s eyes pulling to the Kahlan who lay on the bench, eyes closed, her body trembling with want. “She wants it more than you could possibly imagine.”
It was a simple plan. Cara, overcome with lust, would throw herself on Kahlan and rut like the trained animal she was. The Confessor would use her magic and escape. It was a shameful waste of resources, for the Mord’Sith had the kind of strength the Confessor would prize in a mate, much less a soldier, but needs must.
Cara grabbed the Confessor by the throat, squeezing just enough to show the Confessor she meant business. “Then give it to her.”
She threw the Confessor down on top of Kahlan, who sighed happily. She was enjoying being fought over. With one last look at Cara, who hovered over her, the Confessor vindictively licked Kahlan’s face.
“I’ve never even thought about anything like this…” Kahlan mumbled, sitting up.
The Confessor pressed her to the bench. “Haven’t you?”
With a slow, sauntering movement that was as much for Cara’s benefit as Kahlan’s, the Confessor straddled her doppelganger’s waist. Kahlan whimpered, but in a pleased sort of way. An insolent, almost pouty expression on her face, the Confessor reached down and mauled Kahlan’s breasts. Kahlan squealed in outraged glee, surprised she could ever enjoy such roughness. Cara smiled down at them. She brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen from the Mother Confessor’s plaits.
“Kahlan,” she said, in her ‘pleasant’ voice. “Don’t you think it would be fair to return the favor?”
Kahlan’s eyes opened. She looked up at the two figures towering over her. “I… Richard…”
“Richard shouldn’t have to do all the work, and neither should Kahlan.” If the semantics of this boggled Cara, she gave no sign. “Help her out of her dress. I want to see you. All of you.”
Kahlan reached up and, smiling, plucked at the laces over the Confessor’s breasts. Cara made short work of the lacing down the Confessor’s back. Soon, the white dress of the Confessor was piled up at her hips, the Kahlans forming a Mobius strip as they fondled each other.
Cara picked up her Agiel and held it tightly. The pain shot straight to her cunt and became a cloud of pleasure that filled her body.
“Enough foreplay. It bores me.” She gave the Confessor a light tap on the buttocks with her Agiel and the Confessor growled a little as she paid attention. “Lie down. Spread your legs. Give me a good, long look.”
Kahlan nodded in enthusiastic agreement. Disgruntled, the Confessor scooted down the bench and laid back. In barely an instant, Cara had ripped the dress down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her slip and boots. The Confessor planted her legs firmly on either side of the bench, then reached down and opened herself up. Cara cocked her head as Kahlan’s mouth fell open a little at the brazen behavior.
“Isn’t that a lovely sight?” Cara observed, smacking her Agiel against her palm with a foreboding sound. “Don’t you think, Kahlan? Perhaps you should get a closer look…”
Kahlan obediently crawled down the bench toward her double. “I always dreamed… I’d heard that it felt so good, being licked down there, being tasted, but now I’ll never…” She found the Confessor’s clit with her lips and lapped at it gently, like a cat at a saucer of milk.
The Confessor moaned, keeping the sound deep in her chest. Then, when Kahlan’s fingers made their way inside her, the moan broke out from her throat and filled the room.
“Touch yourself,” Cara ordered, her rough voice in counterpoint to the hand she let travel across Kahlan’s back. Kahlan took no notice and Cara got rougher, slipping her hand under Kahlan, her fingers excitedly digging into the breasts that hung freely from her ruined dress. “I said touch yourself.”
Kahlan paused, looking at Cara, her eyes wide and her mouth dewy with the other Kahlan’s juices. They shined on her lips and dripped off her chin, making Cara purse her own lips. She grabbed Kahlan by the hair and kissed her, tasting them both. Then she slapped her just as hard.
“Never make me repeat myself.”
Kahlan moved her fingers inside the Confessor to the same rhythm she used to rub her reddened cheek. The simultaneity aroused Cara like nothing else she could imagine, heat striking through all her senses at once. She was never more aware of the situation, not even in battle. There was something of the breaking of the slave in this, something of pleasure, and something else, something elusive, connected to the fact that it was Kahlan in front of her. In a manner of speaking.
Cara nodded encouragingly and Kahlan’s hand moved down from her stinging cheek, down her collarbone and over her breasts and down to the soft hairs that coated her belly, until finally she was stroking the soft fur between her legs. Even the Confessor had sat up to watch, her breath coming quickly, her eyes darting between the other two women.
Although she hadn’t quite broken Kahlan, Cara recognized the need for salving compassion. She rubbed small circles into Kahlan’s back, and Kahlan looked up at her adoringly as her fingers delved within herself. Her breathing pitched and Cara smiled, looking back at the Confessor to see a mirror image of her own expression. Funny, how close Kahlan was to Cara once you stripped enough away. The Mord’Sith didn’t laugh.
Kahlan felt lightheaded. She felt complete in a way she couldn’t articulate. After the spell went wrong, she hadn’t for a moment felt unfinished or inadequate. She felt the same as she always felt, even after realizing she’d lost her power. But as she touched the Confessor with the same cadence she applied to her own body, all under the watchful eye of Cara, she felt something within her unlock and open.
Cara dropped to her knees. Perhaps she couldn’t stand any longer. She grabbed both women’s throats and held on tight. “Play with your breasts,” she ordered the Confessor, out of breath.
The Confessor obeyed at her own surly pace, clawing at her own breasts as if she resented the arousal the others were forcing on her. She had no choice but to submit to it. Her desire was building beyond anything she had ever felt. It felt as if her own Confessor’s magic was being turned against her, overcoming everything she was and replacing it with the deepest pleasure. All the strength left her limbs, which hung off the side of the bench as she laid back, head sprawling on her own sweat-damp hair. Her impending climax was taking up all her energy, preparing to release in one perfect inferno.
Cara pulled them apart, and each watched the orgasm die in each other’s face. Cara closed her hands on their throats, hard, thumbs pressing into their trachea. It was the most pointed reminder she could manage that she was in charge, as her voice was gone, torn asunder by the arousal twisting inside her. Kahlan struggled, the Confessor didn’t. She just watched, spots at the edge of her vision, as Cara’s mouth dropped lower and lower, finally wide enough to let loose a strangled gasp that went on and on. The small crack in the discipline of the Mord’Sith.
Cara’s orgasm ended abruptly. All of a sudden she released them and kissed Kahlan, stealing away the first breath she took. The Confessor watched, very calmly rubbing her bruised throat as Cara released Kahlan’s mouth and backed up just enough to feel Kahlan’s damp, hot breath break across her face.
“Don’t I get a kiss?” the Confessor asked, burgeoning with sarcasm. “You know it’s not nice to hurt people’s feelings.”
Cara gave the Confessor a tempted look, but the tinge of black in her eyes stopped the Mord’Sith. Instead, she pressed Kahlan against the Confessor like two drops of water flowing together. What little clothes they had left crinkled between them. With uncharacteristic aggression, Kahlan greedily devoured the Confessor’s lips.
Cara was right beside them, running her hands down their backs to make sure they couldn’t be pressed together any tighter. Circling them like a predator, she arranged their hands, positioning them so that each was cupping the half-moon of the other’s ass while at the same time having a hand between each others’ legs.
They took no notice of her, even as she ripped off the rest of their clothes so that their bare sexes were rubbing together wetly. Their frenzy produced louder and louder sounds, their muscles strained harder and harder. Cara could no longer tell them apart. She pulled one’s head back, and the other’s only response was to bury her face in the exposed cleavage like they were succulent fruit.
“Bite her,” Cara ordered, and no sooner had the words left her mouth than the Confessor pulled away from her hand and sunk her teeth into Kahlan’s soft throat. Kahlan moaned through teeth gritted again the pain, then leaned in to nuzzle, lick, and kiss at her mirror image. The hands between their legs moved faster and the hands roaming each others’ bodies scrambled feverishly to grope as much flesh as possible.
They were close, Cara could sense it. Not just in the sighs and grunts that filled the air, but in the magic gathering within the Kahlan on the left. It was about to overflow. Cara pulled her gloves off, knowing she needed to be part of this despite the risk.
Taking an oilcloth from her belt, she wrapped her hand in the fabric and let it delve between the bodies as they attempted to merge together in an undulating wave. The heat coming off their bodies was like holding her hand up to a forge, and their sweat soaked through the oilcloth in seconds. Cara smiled at how the simple fabric became a warm, wet glove before she had even reached their collarbones.
Then her hand was swallowed up by their breasts as the firm mounds rubbed together, engorged nipples sparking against each other when they weren’t raking over Cara’s leather. She went lower, finding the muscles of their stomachs rippling with the force of grinding their sexes together. Their hands had been moved out of the way, too much of an obstacle to last. Now Kahlan had her hands around the Confessor in an embrace meant both for support and whatever comfort she could garner. The Confessor’s hands were dug into Kahlan’s flesh like beachheads on foreign territory, pulling them tighter together in energetic thrusts. Cara could feel her hand being pulverized between them as it reached their joined crotches. Their loud moans reached new heights as Cara’s fingers splayed.
“Look at me!” Cara hissed in Kahlan’s ear. “Look me in the eye while you come!” she barked at the Confessor.
They used their last bit of control to turn toward Cara as their orgasms hit like they were still one woman, uniting them in one ecstatic scream. The Confessor’s eyes went dark, Kahlan’s eyes went glassy. Cara felt the sheer force of their pleasure pass into her and tingle within her and knew this would be pulsing inside her mind for a long time to come.
Then the women slumped together in identical repose. Cara smiled. She gave them both the kisses they needed, Kahlan’s rough and dominating, the Confessor’s soft and yielding, before lowering them to the bench. Kahlan already had herself wound around the Confessor like a living rope.
Cara stood, only wobbling once. The sight of their pleased, sprawling nakedness was both pleasing to her and somehow disconcerting. “I’ll get you some clothes, Mother Confessor,” she said, eager to be gone from their presence.
“That would please me,” the Confessor said with unaccustomed dreaminess, enjoying the hold she had on Kahlan. The doppelganger was happy to let herself lie in the Confessor’s lap and be toyed with idly, like a favored pet.
Cara banished the episode from her mind upon her return, dressing them both and then having one of the Mother Confessor’s sew up the dresses. In a few hours, Richard and Zedd returned. Kahlan and the Confessor were already inseparable, Kahlan holding tightly to the Confessor as they were merged. And that was the end of it, except for the furtive times when Cara was left to her own devices, just her and her Agiel and a vague, twitching dissatisfaction in her nether regions.
That is, until Kahlan grabbed her hand the next time they were split from Richard and Zedd.
“You know, when you left them, my other sides wrote letters for me.”
“Oh?” Cara asked with something in her rising.
“One of the letters swears undying vengeance and urges me to punish you for your disrespect. The other vows ever-lasting love and says I should make you my mistress.”
Cara looked down at Kahlan’s hand as it tightened on her wrist. “What’s it to be?”
“Why not both?”
Cara kept herself from grinning as Kahlan shoved her to the ground. But only just.
Fandom: Legend of the Seeker
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3,613
Characters/Pairings: Kahlan/Cara/Kahlan
Author’s notes:
iteari betaed this. Huzzah!Spoilers: 2x11 - Torn.
Summary: Kahlan gets in touch with her feminine side. Cara watches.
Kahlan was beside herself. This wasn’t a saying, it was literal. The Confessor’s white robes starkly contrasted with the black travel dress the other Kahlan had adopted. They sat together in the supplicant’s position, guarded by Cara, who was the only one that could contain them while Richard and Zedd gathered the ingredients for the spell that would merge them back together. The Mord’Sith sprawled indulgently in the Mother Confessor’s chair, knowing this irritated them both. The Confessor thought it was a sort of punishment for threatening her Lord Rahl. Kahlan thought she was jealous.
“Richard’s been gone a long time,” Kahlan said, unable to keep the worry out of her voice any longer. “Are you sure he’s alright?”
The Confessor sighed, not bothering to disguise her exasperation. How could any sane individual think that she could do her duty while weighted down with this inane sentimentality? “He’s been gone half an hour. He’s fine.” She went back to glaring at Cara
“How can he do this to me?” Kahlan demanded, retaining the persistence of her old self. “Did I displease him? I know I’m not the most experienced woman he’s ever been with… he’s probably been with lots of women… prettier than me… Mord’Sith sluts…”
“Would you stop prattling on?” the Confessor barked. “He’s doing this to you because he’s like me. All he cares about is his quest, and to complete the quest he needs us in one body, so in we go regardless of what anyone anywhere thinks. In short, he doesn’t care.”
Kahlan broke down, not sobbing, just holding her head in her hands and making strangled little noises. Not even Cara could watch. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way! We were together! We kissed, we… that’s what happens at the end, when the fairy tale is over and they live happily ever after.”
The Confessor could dimly recall the fairy tales of her… their youth. She’d never found one glimmering of them in the real world. “The fairy tale’s been over for a while now.”
Kahlan wiped away her nascent tears. “It wasn’t supposed to be this way,” she repeated, centering herself. “There were so many things we never… did.”
The pause triggered the Confessor’s instincts. She glanced at Kahlan, finally interested in her. “Things.”
“You know…” Kahlan glanced away.
“Sex, you mean?”
Still looking away, Kahlan nodded. Then, “No, love.”
The Confessor sidled closer. Although she’d never admit it, she hadn’t had much chance to indulge either. Prince Fyren was handsome enough, but it was clear that his fascistic tendencies were compensating for a lack in other areas. She’d meant to recruit others, as there were surely many who would prefer her bed to the gallows, but Richard’s arrival had curtailed that.
With a glance to ascertain that Cara was still toying with her Agiels, the Confessor said “Such as?”
“Well, you know…” Kahlan leaned in close to whisper. “He never brushed a strand of hair out of my face.”
It was a wonder, the Confessor mused, that she’d been able to avoid walking off a cliff back when she’d had this fawning creature inside her. But, there happened to be a strand of hair that had wandered across Kahlan’s brow.
The Confessor gallantly brushed it aside. “What else?”
Kahlan looked to the left, the right, then down, as if she were about to divulge the secrets of the Underworld. “I wanted him to take my head in his hands… his big, strong hands… and kiss me so hard I couldn’t stop him, even if I wanted to!” She sounded a little breathless at the end.
The Confessor put her hands on either side of Kahlan’s face “My hands are strong.” She knew it was crazy, maybe even a sin against the spirits, but Kahlan looked strangely attractive when she was vulnerable and alone. It roused the Confessor’s protective nature.
Kahlan seemed to be on the side of right and good. “We can’t. You’re not… I’m not…”
“Why not? Who else knows how we need to be touched? How we need to be kissed?” The Confessor had no more time to waste on romance. Let this be about silly feelings for the other her, for herself it was lust and defiance. One last chance to impose her order on the world. She kissed Kahlan, hard and long, projecting her superiority for every crushing moment before releasing her. “How good it feels to let loose.”
Kahlan touched her lips tentatively, as if checking for blood on them. Finally, she almost whimpered “I dreamt he would rip my clothes off.”
“That can be arranged.”
Slowly, like every movement was an indulgence, the Confessor took hold of Kahlan’s blouse with either hand. Kahlan was breathing hard, her face flushed and reddening as the Confessor’s fingers clinched tighter and tighter over her breasts. With a glance over at Cara, who was leaning intently forward in her chair, the Confessor ripped the dress open. It split down the neckline, then parted further as the Confessor continued to exert herself. Even the hardened leather woven into the dress couldn’t resist her, and Kahlan actually panted as she was exposed to the cool air.
The Confessor smiled as she regarded Kahlan’s heaving breasts. She ran a hand from Kahlan’s throat to her belly before straightening the dress that hung off her in tatters. “How long we’ve dreamed of having someone else’s hands on us instead of our own.” Her finger traced a curving path between Kahlan’s nipples, finding them hard as marble. “I suppose this counts.”
Kahlan was nearly hyperventilating, her eyes brimming with love and arousal. She surged up and kissed the Confessor, hands locking around her throat and jaw clumsily. Despite all her excitement, once the Confessor opened her mouth the kiss became languid and satisfied, Kahlan’s tongue gently massaging its double. For her part, the Confessor enjoyed the feel of their breasts flattening as their bodies crushed together. When that bored her, she let her hands slide over Kahlan’s body. It was an intoxicating combination of the familiar and the exotic. Her own body, divided from her. Virgin territory, the Confessor thought with a smirk as she clutched at Kahlan’s body, pulling them together to make the kiss that much deeper.
The sound of Cara’s boots tapping across the floor was the only thing that could rouse either Kahlan. They looked over to see her a foot away, hands on her hips. Kahlan looked like a teenager caught with black lotus in her pockets, while the Confessor only needed one look at Cara to see the blush of red heat exposed by that ridiculously low-cut bodice. Richard’s little Mord’Sith was enjoying the show.
“Can I help you?” the Confessor asked, ushering Kahlan’s head down to rest against her shoulder. She knew she had once craved such casual intimacy almost as much as sex.
“What are you doing?” Cara demanded, her voice extra curt to cover up the arousal.
“Masturbation, technically.” The Confessor raised her eyebrows at Cara, a challenge, a question, then wrenched Kahlan’s head back by the hair. Kahlan was so excited she actually giggled, and the Confessor felt the sudden need to wipe out that giggle. Her lips came down on Kahlan’s without tenderness or mercy, swallowing down her gasp of surprise, fucking her tongue into Kahlan’s willing mouth.
Cara watched, enraptured, squeezing her Agiel like she was trying to milk more pain out of it. The Confessor knew she used that pain to keep her centered. It gave her an idea.
Straddling the bench, the Confessor caressed Kahlan’s cheek apologetically. Kahlan was literally trembling with the force of the arousal inside her, too long denied. Like a guttering fire flooded with oxygen, it was bursting out of her. The Confessor stroked her face again, closing her eyes with her fingers, and Kahlan whimpered. “Take me. Please, take me.”
“I intend to,” the Confessor drawled, lowering Kahlan to the cold stone of the bench, before turning to Cara. The eye contact burnt Cara, adding fuel to the same kind of fire that raged inside Kahlan.
Slowly, the Confessor drew herself up until they were eye to eye. Cara’s hands were clenched around her Agiel like tightly wound rope. It didn’t stop the Confessor from ripping the Agiel from her grasp in one swift motion. The pain was bearable, just. She dropped it to the floor with a clang that echoed through the chamber. Breath exploded from Cara like she’d been struck.
“She wants it, Cara,” the Confessor said, seeing Cara’s eyes pulling to the Kahlan who lay on the bench, eyes closed, her body trembling with want. “She wants it more than you could possibly imagine.”
It was a simple plan. Cara, overcome with lust, would throw herself on Kahlan and rut like the trained animal she was. The Confessor would use her magic and escape. It was a shameful waste of resources, for the Mord’Sith had the kind of strength the Confessor would prize in a mate, much less a soldier, but needs must.
Cara grabbed the Confessor by the throat, squeezing just enough to show the Confessor she meant business. “Then give it to her.”
She threw the Confessor down on top of Kahlan, who sighed happily. She was enjoying being fought over. With one last look at Cara, who hovered over her, the Confessor vindictively licked Kahlan’s face.
“I’ve never even thought about anything like this…” Kahlan mumbled, sitting up.
The Confessor pressed her to the bench. “Haven’t you?”
With a slow, sauntering movement that was as much for Cara’s benefit as Kahlan’s, the Confessor straddled her doppelganger’s waist. Kahlan whimpered, but in a pleased sort of way. An insolent, almost pouty expression on her face, the Confessor reached down and mauled Kahlan’s breasts. Kahlan squealed in outraged glee, surprised she could ever enjoy such roughness. Cara smiled down at them. She brushed aside a lock of hair that had fallen from the Mother Confessor’s plaits.
“Kahlan,” she said, in her ‘pleasant’ voice. “Don’t you think it would be fair to return the favor?”
Kahlan’s eyes opened. She looked up at the two figures towering over her. “I… Richard…”
“Richard shouldn’t have to do all the work, and neither should Kahlan.” If the semantics of this boggled Cara, she gave no sign. “Help her out of her dress. I want to see you. All of you.”
Kahlan reached up and, smiling, plucked at the laces over the Confessor’s breasts. Cara made short work of the lacing down the Confessor’s back. Soon, the white dress of the Confessor was piled up at her hips, the Kahlans forming a Mobius strip as they fondled each other.
Cara picked up her Agiel and held it tightly. The pain shot straight to her cunt and became a cloud of pleasure that filled her body.
“Enough foreplay. It bores me.” She gave the Confessor a light tap on the buttocks with her Agiel and the Confessor growled a little as she paid attention. “Lie down. Spread your legs. Give me a good, long look.”
Kahlan nodded in enthusiastic agreement. Disgruntled, the Confessor scooted down the bench and laid back. In barely an instant, Cara had ripped the dress down her legs, leaving her in nothing but her slip and boots. The Confessor planted her legs firmly on either side of the bench, then reached down and opened herself up. Cara cocked her head as Kahlan’s mouth fell open a little at the brazen behavior.
“Isn’t that a lovely sight?” Cara observed, smacking her Agiel against her palm with a foreboding sound. “Don’t you think, Kahlan? Perhaps you should get a closer look…”
Kahlan obediently crawled down the bench toward her double. “I always dreamed… I’d heard that it felt so good, being licked down there, being tasted, but now I’ll never…” She found the Confessor’s clit with her lips and lapped at it gently, like a cat at a saucer of milk.
The Confessor moaned, keeping the sound deep in her chest. Then, when Kahlan’s fingers made their way inside her, the moan broke out from her throat and filled the room.
“Touch yourself,” Cara ordered, her rough voice in counterpoint to the hand she let travel across Kahlan’s back. Kahlan took no notice and Cara got rougher, slipping her hand under Kahlan, her fingers excitedly digging into the breasts that hung freely from her ruined dress. “I said touch yourself.”
Kahlan paused, looking at Cara, her eyes wide and her mouth dewy with the other Kahlan’s juices. They shined on her lips and dripped off her chin, making Cara purse her own lips. She grabbed Kahlan by the hair and kissed her, tasting them both. Then she slapped her just as hard.
“Never make me repeat myself.”
Kahlan moved her fingers inside the Confessor to the same rhythm she used to rub her reddened cheek. The simultaneity aroused Cara like nothing else she could imagine, heat striking through all her senses at once. She was never more aware of the situation, not even in battle. There was something of the breaking of the slave in this, something of pleasure, and something else, something elusive, connected to the fact that it was Kahlan in front of her. In a manner of speaking.
Cara nodded encouragingly and Kahlan’s hand moved down from her stinging cheek, down her collarbone and over her breasts and down to the soft hairs that coated her belly, until finally she was stroking the soft fur between her legs. Even the Confessor had sat up to watch, her breath coming quickly, her eyes darting between the other two women.
Although she hadn’t quite broken Kahlan, Cara recognized the need for salving compassion. She rubbed small circles into Kahlan’s back, and Kahlan looked up at her adoringly as her fingers delved within herself. Her breathing pitched and Cara smiled, looking back at the Confessor to see a mirror image of her own expression. Funny, how close Kahlan was to Cara once you stripped enough away. The Mord’Sith didn’t laugh.
Kahlan felt lightheaded. She felt complete in a way she couldn’t articulate. After the spell went wrong, she hadn’t for a moment felt unfinished or inadequate. She felt the same as she always felt, even after realizing she’d lost her power. But as she touched the Confessor with the same cadence she applied to her own body, all under the watchful eye of Cara, she felt something within her unlock and open.
Cara dropped to her knees. Perhaps she couldn’t stand any longer. She grabbed both women’s throats and held on tight. “Play with your breasts,” she ordered the Confessor, out of breath.
The Confessor obeyed at her own surly pace, clawing at her own breasts as if she resented the arousal the others were forcing on her. She had no choice but to submit to it. Her desire was building beyond anything she had ever felt. It felt as if her own Confessor’s magic was being turned against her, overcoming everything she was and replacing it with the deepest pleasure. All the strength left her limbs, which hung off the side of the bench as she laid back, head sprawling on her own sweat-damp hair. Her impending climax was taking up all her energy, preparing to release in one perfect inferno.
Cara pulled them apart, and each watched the orgasm die in each other’s face. Cara closed her hands on their throats, hard, thumbs pressing into their trachea. It was the most pointed reminder she could manage that she was in charge, as her voice was gone, torn asunder by the arousal twisting inside her. Kahlan struggled, the Confessor didn’t. She just watched, spots at the edge of her vision, as Cara’s mouth dropped lower and lower, finally wide enough to let loose a strangled gasp that went on and on. The small crack in the discipline of the Mord’Sith.
Cara’s orgasm ended abruptly. All of a sudden she released them and kissed Kahlan, stealing away the first breath she took. The Confessor watched, very calmly rubbing her bruised throat as Cara released Kahlan’s mouth and backed up just enough to feel Kahlan’s damp, hot breath break across her face.
“Don’t I get a kiss?” the Confessor asked, burgeoning with sarcasm. “You know it’s not nice to hurt people’s feelings.”
Cara gave the Confessor a tempted look, but the tinge of black in her eyes stopped the Mord’Sith. Instead, she pressed Kahlan against the Confessor like two drops of water flowing together. What little clothes they had left crinkled between them. With uncharacteristic aggression, Kahlan greedily devoured the Confessor’s lips.
Cara was right beside them, running her hands down their backs to make sure they couldn’t be pressed together any tighter. Circling them like a predator, she arranged their hands, positioning them so that each was cupping the half-moon of the other’s ass while at the same time having a hand between each others’ legs.
They took no notice of her, even as she ripped off the rest of their clothes so that their bare sexes were rubbing together wetly. Their frenzy produced louder and louder sounds, their muscles strained harder and harder. Cara could no longer tell them apart. She pulled one’s head back, and the other’s only response was to bury her face in the exposed cleavage like they were succulent fruit.
“Bite her,” Cara ordered, and no sooner had the words left her mouth than the Confessor pulled away from her hand and sunk her teeth into Kahlan’s soft throat. Kahlan moaned through teeth gritted again the pain, then leaned in to nuzzle, lick, and kiss at her mirror image. The hands between their legs moved faster and the hands roaming each others’ bodies scrambled feverishly to grope as much flesh as possible.
They were close, Cara could sense it. Not just in the sighs and grunts that filled the air, but in the magic gathering within the Kahlan on the left. It was about to overflow. Cara pulled her gloves off, knowing she needed to be part of this despite the risk.
Taking an oilcloth from her belt, she wrapped her hand in the fabric and let it delve between the bodies as they attempted to merge together in an undulating wave. The heat coming off their bodies was like holding her hand up to a forge, and their sweat soaked through the oilcloth in seconds. Cara smiled at how the simple fabric became a warm, wet glove before she had even reached their collarbones.
Then her hand was swallowed up by their breasts as the firm mounds rubbed together, engorged nipples sparking against each other when they weren’t raking over Cara’s leather. She went lower, finding the muscles of their stomachs rippling with the force of grinding their sexes together. Their hands had been moved out of the way, too much of an obstacle to last. Now Kahlan had her hands around the Confessor in an embrace meant both for support and whatever comfort she could garner. The Confessor’s hands were dug into Kahlan’s flesh like beachheads on foreign territory, pulling them tighter together in energetic thrusts. Cara could feel her hand being pulverized between them as it reached their joined crotches. Their loud moans reached new heights as Cara’s fingers splayed.
“Look at me!” Cara hissed in Kahlan’s ear. “Look me in the eye while you come!” she barked at the Confessor.
They used their last bit of control to turn toward Cara as their orgasms hit like they were still one woman, uniting them in one ecstatic scream. The Confessor’s eyes went dark, Kahlan’s eyes went glassy. Cara felt the sheer force of their pleasure pass into her and tingle within her and knew this would be pulsing inside her mind for a long time to come.
Then the women slumped together in identical repose. Cara smiled. She gave them both the kisses they needed, Kahlan’s rough and dominating, the Confessor’s soft and yielding, before lowering them to the bench. Kahlan already had herself wound around the Confessor like a living rope.
Cara stood, only wobbling once. The sight of their pleased, sprawling nakedness was both pleasing to her and somehow disconcerting. “I’ll get you some clothes, Mother Confessor,” she said, eager to be gone from their presence.
“That would please me,” the Confessor said with unaccustomed dreaminess, enjoying the hold she had on Kahlan. The doppelganger was happy to let herself lie in the Confessor’s lap and be toyed with idly, like a favored pet.
Cara banished the episode from her mind upon her return, dressing them both and then having one of the Mother Confessor’s sew up the dresses. In a few hours, Richard and Zedd returned. Kahlan and the Confessor were already inseparable, Kahlan holding tightly to the Confessor as they were merged. And that was the end of it, except for the furtive times when Cara was left to her own devices, just her and her Agiel and a vague, twitching dissatisfaction in her nether regions.
That is, until Kahlan grabbed her hand the next time they were split from Richard and Zedd.
“You know, when you left them, my other sides wrote letters for me.”
“Oh?” Cara asked with something in her rising.
“One of the letters swears undying vengeance and urges me to punish you for your disrespect. The other vows ever-lasting love and says I should make you my mistress.”
Cara looked down at Kahlan’s hand as it tightened on her wrist. “What’s it to be?”
“Why not both?”
Cara kept herself from grinning as Kahlan shoved her to the ground. But only just.
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Date: 2010-03-12 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 08:08 pm (UTC)Thanks for sharing. :)
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Date: 2010-03-12 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 08:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 09:08 pm (UTC)you handled the duality perfectly, and it totally worked. plus bonus points for making it hot as hell.
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Date: 2010-03-12 09:34 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-12 10:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-13 02:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-13 02:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-13 03:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-03-14 05:45 am (UTC)haHA! Oh Cara, so sharp.
Welll-p, now I have to go buy a new motherboard, as you have melted this one... good job! ;p Seriously, though, muy caliente!
no subject
Date: 2010-04-14 07:57 am (UTC)