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[ingeniar]

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[ingeniar]

[ Immediately, sorry Shadowheart: ]

Hey, I'm pretty sure I remember you volunteering -- ow, watch the toes! Who taught you to give foot rubs? You need to go back to school. Wizard massage lessons.

[nightsung]

[ Little cricket sparks the smallest warmth in her, even as her ever-present grey threatens to snuff it out. Shadowheart holds fast, the ember burning her hands. ]

Surely you can do better than a five out of ten, Stephen.

If you can't, I can always keep Tony to myself when I get home. You can listen through the door, if you like.

[rehandle]

[ He's about to argue that she's got his hands, not his legs— then recalls that doors have handles.

😤

No verbal retort, but he jabs a thumb hard into the arch of Tony's foot in silent protest before following it with a more appropriate, focused application of slow, sweeping pressure. ]

[ingeniar]

[ The poke earns another ow!, but Tony is an easy mark for the rest of it. With an effort, he turns his attention back to the phone. ]

Hey, tell me more about what we're gonna do when you get home. Or what you're doing right now. Paint us a picture.

[nightsung]

[ She listens to the quiet creak of the sofa, the shift of fabric as the two men settle together. Hers. ]

I might ask for a foot massage, if Stephen's technique improves.

I'd like to lie down when I get home. So I'm wondering which one of you wants his head between my thighs, ass up on the bed while the other fingers him open.

[ingeniar]

Whoa, okay -- [ Over and around any contribution Stephen wants to make to that particular idea. ] Can I volunteer? Do we have to fight over it? Feel free to get interested, by the way, if you need my permission --

[ The last part directed at the man next to him, as he pointedly presses his foot more firmly into his lap. ]

[rehandle]

[ Which is fine, because Stephen was busy stuttering into a stunned stillness and wide-eyed silence that Tony's swift interjection does very little to remedy. His foot does, though, breath huffed out over a flinch, eyes gone unfocused for a second as he weathers the two-pronged attack of contact and verbal welcome.

Of course meaning he has to get his own back. One hand locks the offending foot in place, thumb working firmly, precisely now into the ball of it while his other hand circles Tony's ankle, journeying up under his pant leg, mapping out a trail along his calf. ]

He can have it. [ He says, trying not to think too hard about literally anything while endeavouring to make direct eye contact with the he in question. ] I might as well test out your teaching.

I promise to remind him how you like it once he starts getting sloppy.

[nightsung]

Someone's eager. [ Teasing, but there's a note of softness there. Fondness. Shadowheart knows it will start to hurt shortly, when warmth for anyone but Saber feels like fingers dug into bruised ribs, but it's worth it, to stay--something closer to human. For a moment, at least. ]

Maybe I should have snuck more toys into the village. Do you think we'd all be able to feel it? If one of us was plugged for each other?

[ingeniar]

Jesus Christ -- [ A slightly breathless blasphemy with unclear origins, courtesy of Shadowheart's dirty mind or what Stephen's doing with his hands, or maybe both. Maybe the way his desire for them feels suddenly huge and hollow, a bottomless pit that will never be filled, but aches for it nonetheless.

Tony straightens up on the couch, gaze locked on Stephen. He's starting to become aware that he's allowed himself to be pinned down from both sides, metaphorically speaking. Maybe literally speaking pretty soon. ]

We can all feel it, right? When everyone's.. into it. So, stands to reason that we'd all be able to.. uh.. [ Okay, he's getting distracted. ]

[rehandle]

Mhmm.

[ And just like that, the tables turn. The shocked uncertainty of a moment before is gone, smoothed out into steady eye contact, the subtle impression of a smirk. ]

Hey, little cricket? [ It doesn't sound the same as when Tony says it. Maybe that's because it's coming from the wrong mouth, or maybe it's because he's using it to punish him. A prelude to what comes next. ] Can you feel this?

[ Stephen shifts in his seat so he can slide his hand further up Tony's pant leg, blunt nails over hair and skin, squeezing tight into the calf muscle once he finds new purchase. His other hand hinges Tony's foot back down so he can roll up into it, jaw going loose, the precise shape and size of the attention he's paying clear through taut fabric and dim, fresh pleasure scattering out between them. ]

[nightsung]

Oh.

[ A soft, fluttery breath through the speaker, caught by surprise despite the fact that she asked for exactly this. Her cunt is already slick between her thighs, but by now her panties are soaked through--still a novel sensation, a cock firming and lengthening where there's nothing to touch. ]

There are--toys back home like this. Enchanted so we can feel it when we fuck into someone.

I think I'd like that, with you.

[ingeniar]

[ Somehow it doesn't feel so bad to discover that everything's changed in the space of a moment. Tony lets out a shaky breath of his own as he realises what Stephen is doing and feels the reverb of the feedback, staticky thrum of feeling through the carefully tuned wires inside him. The unmistakable shape of Stephen's hard dick against the sole of his foot, heat somehow getting through the fabric of trousers and sock. A vague pressure in his own lap, the ghost of himself. And a feeling of -- wetness, emptiness, clenching around nothing. ]

Can we, uh. Can we get some of those?

[ Still holding Stephen's gaze, he flexes his toes, experimentally. Pushes into him a little. Drops his own hand into his lap and thumbs open the top button on his pants, then strafes a palm down over himself. ]

Wonder what it'll feel like when it's not just a toy.

[rehandle]

[ A little hum of satisfaction - at the idea of those enchanted toys, at the press of Tony's foot, the shifting tide of sensation between three bodies (more, maybe, cock twitching as he wonders if Lanfear's laid down with this too, two of her bonded at play somewhere across the village.) His gaze, dropped briefly to watch Tony's hand move, lifts again to meet his eye. ]

Are you asking me to fuck you, Tony?

[ Shadowheart's uncomplicated knack for vulgarity makes a home in his mouth, and he uses it to meet the challenge head on, performing for the audience on the other end of the line as much as the other end of the couch. Voice pitched a little deeper. ]

Are you coming home? You're right. He is eager.

[nightsung]

[ Shadowheart was wanted elsewhere, had another home visit to make as healer, but compared to this—-it suddenly doesn’t matter. Her legs feel unsteady, and it’s taking all of her remaining self-control not to keep touching herself right here.

She can’t get off without Tony, and she doesn’t just want his verbal permission. ]

Yes.

[ Her voice thick, the upper hand passed to Stephen, for the moment. Funny, how Shadowheart thought their roles would be more straight-forward; instead, they keep surprising each other, passing off the scepter of control. ]

Wait for me. Before you—-

I’ll be there in five minutes.

[ingeniar]

[ The filthy riposte from the wizard earns a startled laugh from Tony, eyes wide, as delighted as he is incredulous to hear something like that. Unfortunately for everyone, he never turns down a challenge -- it usually just makes him worse.

He cants himself upwards, leaning over his own knee so he can tilt towards Stephen, a wicked smile on his face. In a state whisper deliberately loud enough for Shadowheart to overhear: ]

Hey, how far do you think we can get in five minutes?

[rehandle]

[ The answering spread of a grin as the dial turns again, leaves Shadowheart the one on the backfoot, and while that means it's coming for him next he'll revel in the right now. His murmur is conspiratorial and too loud to stay private when he responds: ]

Shall we find out?

[ And shifts, freeing his hand from Tony's trouser leg so he can lean in himself, stretching over to tap the screen on Tony's phone until chance alone makes the line go dead.

Hurry home, Shadowheart. Five minutes is an awfully long time. ]

[nightsung]

[ It takes her four, though there’s a lingering part of her that doesn’t want to be pinned as overeager, desperate. The part that withdrew from Stephen last month, that distrusted Tony, cold and unyielding.

Or maybe a part that doesn’t want to be left out, left behind. Shadowheart is flushed when she comes in the door, the scattered sense of pleasure converging as she reunites with two pieces of her whole.

She slips in behind Stephen on the couch, slender arms winding around his middle, her palm laying over top the hand that works the hot length of Tony’s cock. She squeezes, meanly, nosing into the salt-sweat behind Stephen’s ear. ]

I should tie your hands behind your back for hanging up on me.

[rehandle]

[ If he'd intended to be good, the proximity left over in the wake of the ended call had put paid to that plan. Only one another left to one-up and Stephen too high on his latest win to pass up the upper hand so soon. He's curled around Tony by the time Shadowheart arrives, calf hooked over shin to keep his thighs parted, hand around his cock and one up in his hair, encouraging his head back so Stephen can work at the skin of his throat with an eager mouth.

He feels her without needing to see her, all three of them soon a huddle that would almost be sweet if it weren't for that squeeze, the echo of it between his own legs, Shadowheart's voice so close to his ear issuing threat of punishment earning its own noticeable shudder. The cough of an out-of-place laugh thwarts his effort to leave another more lasting mark on Tony's skin, Stephen tilting his head just enough so she can hear him, panting around words. ]

We'd have to rework a lot of plans.

[ Not above being aggravating even as he feels the dial twisting away from him again, much to his continued delight. ]

[ingeniar]

[ As it turns out, Tony doesn't mind conceding defeat, occasionally. Though having Stephen on top of him, one hand stroking him, tongue and teeth working urgent heat on his throat while he tips his head back against the couch and stutters out encouragement, doesn't feel like a loss. He shudders and gasps as he hears the door open, some new sense expending the closer that Shadowheart gets to them.

The couch creaks as she joins them; Tony feels himself throb helplessly into their joined hands, leaking over their fingers. He makes a disappointed noise when Stephen leaves his throat alone and squints a look at them, flushed and breathless. ]

Do it. [ His useful contribution. His pupils are blown wide and dark as he gazes up at Shadowheart; the soft light of the lamps feels dazzling. He's a little lightheaded, his heart hammering in his chest. ] Belt in the bedroom.

[nightsung]

[ Shadowheart’s eyes glint as she meets Tony’s gaze over Stephen’s shoulder, then bites said shoulder through his shirt, quipping, ]

The best plans are flexible.

[ And she’s up and off of the couch, disappearing into the bedroom and returning when she finds Tony’s belt, winding the leather around her palm.

Shadowheart slips between them, then. Pushes Stephen back up and seats herself on Tony’s thighs, the curve of her ass against his cock beneath her skirt. She could take Stephen’s wrists in hand, wrangle him into place, but she doesn’t; instead, she presses the leather of the belt to his sternum, holding his gaze in challenge. ]

Hands behind your back. [ Shadowheart waits until Stephen complies, arches her back to lean into him (and rub back, a little, against Tony) and slides her arms around his waist again. She deftly loops the belt around his wrists by feel alone, eyes on his all the while. ]

We usually used something sturdier for interrogations, at the Cloister. [ Lightly, as she slips a finger under the leather to test that it’s snug. Settling back again, eyeing her handiwork—Stephen’s shirt pulled taut across his chest, buttons straining, she tips her head and offers a smile. ] Good boy.

[rehandle]

[ Tony throws his vote behind Shadowheart's whim, the second betrayal of the day (nevermind the thrill of belt in the bedroom, those teeth pressing down into fabric leaving indents in his skin), and it earns him another retaliatory squeeze that has nothing to do with Shadowheart's covering hand and everything to do with petty vengeance and the rhythm of play. Shadowheart leaves them to procure said belt and Stephen leans back enough to look Tony in the eye, the sharp corner of an uneven grin belying the fun he's having as he taunts him through a few slow, tight strokes, bestowing on him the following little curse: ]

I hope she makes you beg.

[ Then she's back, and she's between them, and Stephen finds himself on his feet to make room, and the leather at this chest is a challenge, her words a command he has no obligation to follow though his hands are now useless to him either way. It doesn't take him long. He holds her gaze for a few drawn out moments, expression schooled into defiant over-confidence right up until a beat before he moves - and surprise briefly blocks out the rest.

He does as he's bid. The belt closes around his wrists, pulled tight enough that when he tugs there's no real give, and for a moment Stephen's left there staring at her, eyes wide and jaw loose and chest heaving with shallow, keyed up breaths. The decision he's made bites soft and wonderful into the delicate skin of his bound hands.

His gaze skitters from Shadowheart to Tony, back again— then good boy hits and he sucks in a sudden, decisive breath, steps forward to make space between their legs and lower himself carefully to his knees.

If he's learned anything in the last handful of years, it's that there are others way to be useful than the application of a steady hand. ]

[ingeniar]

[ In Tony's experience, the trouble with getting exactly what you want is that it usually just makes you want more. That's fine if you're capable of getting more, keeping that particular monster fed, but sometimes it ends in frustration -- not that frustration is always a bad thing, particularly in times like this, with an experienced hand down your pants and some very good looking people promising you all sorts of wicked things.

Begging, though -- Tony has no intentions of letting that happen without a fight. He's distracted from making that clear by Shadowheart's arrival back in the room, looking like a wench who means business -- coincidentally Tony's favorite kind of wench -- as she manoeuvres them around. He has a few seconds of reprieve, rumpled and sprawled across the couch, before Shadowheart drops into his lap. He makes a small noise of not-quite-discomfort as she seats herself right up against his hard dick, but his hands go right onto her hips to keep her there, watching over her shoulder as she wrangles the wizard like an expert. He's not got a good angle on what she does to Stephen's hands, but he can guess what it is from the expression on his face and the flush on his cheeks. ]

Attagirl.

[ Tony murmurs the praise with good humor, casually asserting his own place (likely to be temporary) in the hierarchy as he does to work gathering up the heavy fabric of her skirt so he can get his own hands underneath it, seeking the softness of her thighs.

He's tipped back enough on the couch to be able to lean around a little and watch Stephen sink down to his knees. ]

Pretty good look for you. Should've done this sooner.

[ Tony leans up a bit so he can put his mouth to Shadowheart's shoulder, kissing it gently, glancing up at her as he sinks his hands deeper into the folds of her skirt, hitching it further up around her hips. Stephen has the better view; Tony's part of the show, helpfully setting things up. One hand goes investigating, thoughtfully stroking a circle over damp skin and slippery-wet fabric. He raises his eyebrows over what he finds, murmurs against her: ]

Mm. What now for him, Mistress?

[nightsung]

[ Shadowheart’s breath deepens, straining the ties of her dress as Stephen sinks to his knees, Tony’s warm hands finding her thighs and stroking between them. Her hold on the upper hand is tenuous, now, hips already rolling into the only touch that can make her come. ]

I want to ride you like this. [ Addressed to Tony, tipping her head into his at her shoulder though her eyes are on Stephen, heavy-lidded—and then her hands, stroking his hair back from his face where he’s close to bracketed between their legs, near enough to smell the heat of her. Shadowheart says the next as if he isn’t there, thumbing over his bottom lip as she grasps his chin. ] So he can taste us both at once.

[rehandle]

[ Stephen doesn't have a single word left in him, voice tied up with his hands. Fine-tuned to purpose, waiting only to be given his cue.

In the meantime there's Tony clearing the way, issuing a comment that might have felt like losing once but now feels like a challenge best won by proving him right. There's the pair of them conspiring, mouth soft at a shoulder, heads close, and Shadowheart's hands toying gently with him while they discuss his fate. Tony's hand under what fabric of her skirt still lingers while her hips shift, craving him, her eyes on Stephen all the while, and the smell and heat of her is so close it takes everything not to tip forward to drag his tongue along her inner thigh. In the end, it's all he can do to tilt his head back enough that his lips can part in silent invitation to that sweeping thumb without disrupting the firm cradle of her hand.

Then she says exactly what he wants to hear and his lungs empty in a gust, almost winded by it, nodding a brief flurry of tiny, frantic little nods.

Front row seat to the best show in town, and it's coming up on time for audience participation. ]

[ingeniar]

[ Stephen's enthusiasm is noted; Tony watches him closely over Shadowheart's shoulder, idly sketching circles and figure eights on her inner thighs, earning scraps of stray memories that float across his mind -- warm summer nights in a forest, magic spells woven in the air of ancient tombs. He's getting used to letting the foreign past play out while he observes the present: the flush on Stephen's cheeks, the way it's pretty fun to see this side of him. Also fun, watching him open his mouth for Shadowheart's thumb, a sight that makes Tony's cock throb against the curve of Shadowheart's ass. ]

Yeah. Okay, great idea, let's do that. Gonna need some -- [ He puts his hands on Shadowheart's hips. ]

Up we get. [ Not much room like this, but maybe Stephen will enjoy getting a faceful of Shadowheart's pussy when she stands up, and Tony's already decided he needs to get her underwear off somehow. He assists as much as he can, tugging her panties down and helping her step out of them, then encouraging her to sit back down again, having taken a moment to free himself from his own trousers.

That done, all that's needed is for her to line herself up how she likes, and he's happy to let Shadowheart decide that. In the meantime, he's occupied with exploring the laces on the front of her dress, possibly also copping a feel while he does it. ]