Sara walked down the ramshackle rows of tents and lean-tos with her attention on the ground before her, not wanting to trip and wake up half the army. She and the others had shed their armor over the course of the meeting, but that didn't make her any more graceful in the bck of night. Two mere months of training had given the troops an admirable discipline in battle, but not one that had spread to the camp itself. The nes supposedly reserved for thoroughfare were cluttered with belongings and refuse, a veritable minefield when thick clouds hid the starlight as they did at the moment.

  She was stepping over yet another discarded bundle of ripped clothing when she felt a warm hand slide up against the small of her back. She shivered at the touch, the humid night just cool enough that Hurlish's warmth was pleasurable, rather than stifling.

  Sara smiled fondly as Hurlish sidled up beside her, the difference in their height enough that the orc could have been an adult escorting a child through the markets. That illusion quickly eroded as Hurlish's hand drifted lower, reaching around Sara's hip to pull her in closer. Sara obligingly thumped her head against Hurlish's side, letting the rger woman take more of her weight as their curves slotted together. A girlfriend a foot and change taller than Sara was a gift she'd never grow tired of, particurly at moments like this, when she was reminded of the soft embrace that met her at eye level.

  They walked that way a bit further, Irregur grace allowing their legs to not stumble or intertwine even while they pyfully bumped hips. The center of the camp was the most organized, close as it was to the officer's quarters, and she felt more confident letting her hands wander now that nearly every tent was firmly buttoned shut. Sara hurried her pace, eager to reach privacy.

  Without warning, Hurlish stopped. Sara nearly did trip over herself then, saved from the indignity by a catcher's mitt of a hand snagging her shoulder and dragging her back. Sound grew muffled as both ears were enveloped between Hurlish's breasts, Sara held in a tight hug against the orc's front.

  "Something the matter?" She whispered, looking up at Hurlish.

  She was answered only by a dangerous grin and a small shake of the head. Reassured, but no less confused, Sara looked about. Evie stepped in front of her, ears twisting this way and that, tail coiled close against her back in excitement.

  "No..." she whispered, realization dawning. She looked up at Hurlish. " No, Hurlish. This is so stupid."

  "Hush," the orc rumbled, swaying slightly. Hurlish's arm wrapping Sara's chest forcing her to sway as well. Evie completed her brief tour of their surroundings, satisfied that those in the nearest tents were sound asleep. She shot Sara a wicked expression.

  "You've been negligent in your duties, Master," she whispered, barely audible. She took slow, sauntering steps towards Sara, looking half seductress, half torturer. She tapped her colr pointedly, whispering as she approached. "Did you know, Master, that this is the first time-- the first in four and a half months-- that I've begun to feel my colr's compulsions pressing on my mind?"

  The colr's compulsions?

  Oh. Right. Those compulsions. Like Evie had implied, Sara had been active enough in their retionship that she'd nearly forgotten the strange conditions Amarat's blessings imposed on Evie. Every colred sve had to somehow Dedicate themselves to their owner once a day, usually with words of praise or something simir, but Sara was an exception to the rule. The Goddess of Passion had only one way for her supplicants to show Dedication.

  "That means you're in trouble," Hurlish whispered, hugging Sara just a little bit tighter. "The little kitty doesn't like not being fed."

  It was a testament to Evie's distraction that Hurlish's pet name barely prompted an eye roll. Sara tried to shrink away from the catgirl as she drew close, but all that did was shove her ass into Hurlish's legs, who chuckled.

  "This is such a bad idea, you two," Sara whispered again, trying to reason with her girlfriends.

  "Indeed, Master," Evie replied, stopping a hair's breadth from Sara's skin. She blinked in faux-innocence. "A shame, then, that the consequence of your negligence has reared its head in such an inappropriate location." She tsked sadly, reaching out to brush her fingernails against the hem of Sara's shirt. "As, the compulsion grows too great, and can't be put off any longer. I hope your skill with speech extends to keeping your silence, Master."

  For someone who was supposedly being driven to action by magical compulsions, Evie sure was taking her damn time with this. Sara would have protested again, but Evie prevented it by reaching underneath her shirt with a single cw, the lightest of touches scraping a slow line down her stomach.

  Sara's breath hiccuped in her chest. She tried to twist away from the touch, but Hurlish held her tight. Feebly, she tried one st approach.

  "But... I can't really do anything for you out here, right? Wouldn't it be better for you if we were in the tent?"

  "Oh, Master," Evie breathed, grabbing the waistband of Sara's pants, "I will take all the pleasure I need from your body."

  Sara's head fell back into Hurlish's chest as Evie began to lower her waistband, betrayed by her own body as her cock sprang free. Anxiety and need had Sara's heart beating fast, visible in the way her cock pulsed next to Evie's hand.

  Hurlish craned her neck down to murmur directly in Sara's ear. "Don't worry, honey," she whispered, her words dripping into Sara's skull like the selfsame nectar, "if you start getting too loud, I'll give you something to scream into."

  With Sara's knees already turning to jelly, Hurlish was free to run one hand up her body, caressing her breasts through her clothes, grazing the lines of her exposed colrbone with a calloused thumb. Sara thought the hand was going towards her mouth, to quiet her, but it stopped at her neck, gently squeezing down.

  Sara gasped as she felt the heady rush, a buzzing lightheadedness accompanied and worsened by Evie's fingers first alighting upon her cock. Sara had no idea where the feline had found time to bathe and perfume herself, but she had to have, the scent filling Sara's nose as she took deep breaths to calm herself doing just the opposite.

  Evie, who had been coated in the blood of a dozen soldiers twelve hours ago, smelled like roses and lic, her palm smooth as silk on Sara's shaft. She wasn't even moving yet, but she still had Sara squirming, hips betraying her in a search to find friction.

  "What would you like, Master?" Evie asked, remaining torturously still. "Come now, use your words. The Champion of Amarat's lips are famous for more than just their softness, aren't they?"

  "I-if you wanna find that out," Sara said, pausing to gasp as Evie rewarded her with a tiny twitch, "you'll have to get me somewhere I can show you."

  "Oh, what a shame," Evie said, not sounding disappointed in the least. "I guess I'll have to find what you like on my own."

  Sara went limp as Evie's other hand began to explore, half her weight supported by Hurlish's hand on her throat as Evie reached under her cloth overshirt. The catgirl didn't slip a finger beneath the skintight bck pseudo-nylon she wore beneath, but instead circled her fingers atop the material, teasing Sara with too impersonal a touch to satisfy. Her other hand began to rub ever so slowly, forcing a pitiable whine from between Sara's lips.

  "Promising," Evie breathed, pressing closer. Sara's cock was sandwiched between Evie's stomach and Sara's pelvis, the subtle shifts of their bodies rubbing the head against rough cloth and soft threads. Sara bucked, mouth hanging open to pant into the night.

  "I think she liked that," Hurlish observed, as if it weren't fucking obvious.

  "You may be right. Should I go a little quicker, then?"

  Hurlish looked down on Sara, judging. "Eh. Better keep it the same, just in case."

  "You motherfucker," Sara breathed.

  "Not yet, I'm not," Hurlish chuckled. Her voice dropped lower. "Now, if you really want her to do things right, I've got a sneaking suspicion you're gonna have to ask for it."

  Sara knew Hurlish was right. She kept alternating between moving away and into Evie's palm regardless, indecision prolonging her suffering. Eventually, she realized that there wasn't anything to be done. Evie was committed to this course, and the only control afforded Sara was how willingly she could py along.

  "Please," Sara whined, "Please, faster, Evie."

  The catgirl responded immediately, palm riding up and down Sara's length with silken grace. Evie shuddered in time with Sara as the pace increased, the colr's bond transting every sensation Sara suffered into phantom pleasure for Evie. Honestly, it was remarkable that the catgirl had the resolve required to move so slow for so long, considering the fact that she was edging herself by proxy.

  Sara's head fell forward, pressing little whimpers into the top of Evie's hair. Hurlish's hand on her neck pulled her back up shortly after, determined that if Sara was going to stifle her reactions, it'd be on Hurlish's terms.

  Sara bit her lip as Evie raised a thumb up to graze Sara's head, her whole hand squeezing tightly just as a rolling shudder roared through them both. Sara gasped, loudly this time. Hurlish's other hand came up to cover her mouth, both of Sara's partners smirking at their first victory.

  Sara whined freely into Hurlish's muffling palm, Evie's skill wringing ever greater moans from her. It was almost unfair how good the catgirl was at this, guided by Sara's own sensations as she was. Back on Earth Sara had only given her partners handjobs on rare occasions, always feeling embarrassed trying to imitate an act that any of her dick-wielding partners obviously had more experience at. Before coming to this world, Sara'd never even known what having the other set of equipment was like, and barely had knew what to do when the act didn't involve her mouth or her pussy.

  That was a disadvantage Evie didn't suffer from, and she took the advantage in stride. She paused and clenched at the very moments Sara would have, speeding up right after, chasing Sara's peak with fanatic dedication. Sara could barely keep her eyes open, but when she managed it, Evie was staring right back at her, heavy breaths silently fogging the space between them.

  Sara tried to lock eyes with her, when she wasn't twisting in pleasure. Evie may have been better at hiding her reactions than Sara, but they'd spent hours and days in bed together. Sara knew what to look for.

  She pressed her chest into Sara's through each stroke, rubbing her breasts against the inside of her homespun cloth shirt just to chase a little extra friction.

  Her legs were squeezed tightly together, trying to hold still, but they twitched in time with Sara's all the same.

  She kept licking her lips as she watched Sara's reactions, wetting them like a woman starved, hungry for something other than a meal.

  Evie caught Sara watching her. With a merciless grin, she sped up.

  Sara wrenched her eyes closed, entire body tensing up as Evie began to pump her hand up and down Sara's cock at a furious pace. Sara bucked wildly into her hand, nearly throwing the catgirl off their close press, but it wasn't that easy to shake Evie. Feline panting joined the sounds of Sara's groans, a light patina over the sound of shifting cloth and rubbing clothes that broke the silent night.

  Sara opened her eyes one st time and found Evie's eyelids shut, lost in pleasure, mouth hanging loose. The sight was enough to push her over the edge.

  Sara bit down on Hurlish's palm as she let out a long groan, shoving up into Evie's hand once, twice, and then held her position, animal instincts trying to bury herself to the base even when there was no point.

  "F-fuck!" Evie whispered, high pitched and keening. She shoved her face into the crook of Sara's neck as they came apart together, trembling against one another as Sara's cock pulsed again and again, coating the front of their clothes the same shade of white as the stars bursting in her vision. Sara kept rutting, feeling Evie's hand and stomach against her cock, teeth grinding from the effort required to stay silent. Evie silenced herself by biting down on Sara's neck, razor canines drawing pinprick dots of blood that neither of them cared about in the moment. They shook and shook against one another, each wave hitting in slowing fashion, until Sara was slowly grinding, spent.

  Above them, Hurlish chuckled.

  "Alright, kitty. You had your fun." Hurlish peeled Evie off Sara, tossing the limp feline over her shoulder. "Now it's my turn."

  Sara found herself being shoved roughly towards the tent, wobbling her way there like a newborn calf. Judging by Hurlish's roughness, Sara was going to be spending the first day on horseback with very sore hips.