Today’s prompt selection was: Dildos, Dom bottom / Sub top, and Medical play. I had a few okay-ish selections, although am slightly saddened by the fact that I have some great ones planned but not yet written: for instance, the scene I ended up choosing is a good one I think, but would be so much better from the other character’s POV, because she just really likes sex toys so she would focus on them more. As is, it’s more about the sex than the toy because of the character POV.
Still, I think it counts!
This story is set in Arellan, a fantasy world with magic; this is often important to keep in mind.
Martina is a half-elven woman with long reddish-brown hair, and medium brown skin. She’s in her latter thirties and fairly curvy, and has been friends with Gurt for as long as she can remember; they’ve been amorous for many many years, being each others’ firsts for many related things.
Gurt is a half-orcish woman who works at her fully-orcish mother’s butcher shop. She’s also a drummer, and socially terrified; she doesn’t talk much and has a high frequency of missteps, higher the more anxious she is. She’s quite strong but not hugely burly, with a body one might expect of a rock climber perhaps; green skin, violet eyes, and short black hair worn in tight braids. She’s in her latter thirties, a couple of years older than Martina. She has had a fascination with sex toys since the incident recounted in this mid-scene flashback.
Some other characters pop up in mentions or in the flashback but I don’t think they’re important.
This scene involves two women having sex with a porcelain-donged strap-on, as well as a flashback to a glass dildo being given as a birthday gift. If for some reason that strikes you as unsavoury, now or at any point, feel free to stop reading.
After the break, as always, things get spicy, although not immediately this time.
Martina grinned as Gurt untied her shirt and shrugged it down off of her shoulders, giving Martina easier access to the skin there to dig in the balls of her thumbs and glide the heel of her palm firmly across; Gurt groaned and spat one or two soft swears as Martina worked, and Martina giggled every time she did.
“Looks like you’ve been having a very fun party,” Martina purred, dipping down to kiss at her half-orcish friend’s muscular shoulders and neck. Marks dotted her olive-coloured skin, both hickeys and lingering hints of teeth as well.
Gurt snickered, shrugging in response in a fashion that was very unhelpful for a shoulder massage but quite cute, and Martina laughed, tossing her hair. “Not like you could exactly deny it if you wanted,” she pointed out. “After all, firstly, I don’t think you could bend your neck around to leave these marks on yourself – and secondly, there’s no tusks.”
Martina frowned slightly, tipping her head to the side. “Okay, never mind, some of them do have tusks – Olivia?”
“Yeah,” Gurt sighed dreamily. “Plus a few. Erris, uh. Emma…lyne? Emmaleen? And uh, the Priest as well, Oreilla.”
“Oh yeah I see some of his work here,” Martina murmured, grinning softly as one of her fingertips traced the mostly-faded hints of his sharper teeth. “Playing his game from home, right? I caught a couple of glimpses while I was running back and forth with someone else.”
“Didn’t notice,” Gurt chuckled, and then groaned as Martina laid into a ball of tension in her shoulder. “Mm, yeah, there – uh, hope you had fun though?”
“Oh, I always do,” Martina replied easily with a wave before she realized just how like her own mother she sounded and let out a snort of a laugh. “I mean- yes, I did, and I usually do but- thanks, for asking, anyway. And obviously I hope you did, too.”
“Oh yeah,” Gurt laughed briefly. “I mean somebody would have to- you know. Get there. Plus, Erris, so- not his first time. Plus the Priest. Um. You think he’s… taking a break? Or- I mean, I know it’s not a Temple but-”
“We actually just got done with a little worshipping ourselves,” Martina murmured softly, knowing that Oreilla wouldn’t have any compunction over it being shared. “And a little worshipping, as well,” she giggled, and Gurt laughed too. “I think if you wanted to track him down later for something he’d be happy for that, delighted – his town’s not monotheistic or anything but they are under Bellerrel’s protection, so…”
Gurt nodded, knowing some of Sal Al Maris but never having been there herself. “Gotta convince mom to close the store for a week so I can go visit with you,” she grumbled.
Martina scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Oh yeah, sure, that’ll happen. Your mom, close the butcher’s? I swear she’s gonna get up a writ done making you take her to the Brayyva Temple when she dies so that her skeleton can keep working there.”
Gurt groaned heavily, burying her head in the pillow. “Yeah. How’d you know? But only because she’s not allowed to sell her own meat off and turn the bones to soup.”
Martina nodded softly, her throat shifting a little oddly as she swallowed – and she knew that it was a wide world with hundreds or thousands of different cultures and peoples and sorts of folk upon it, and all of them had their own customs, and all of those customs had reasons and it was better not to think of any of them as wrong until you understood them better, but the idea of eating a person was a little upsetting to her even though she knew that to Uhra it was simply a part of a respectful passing.
Martina, on the other hand, was even becoming more aware of how much thought anything that was eaten could have; not just animals but even plants as well.
Drellselyurvin spoke to the roses, and said they had opinions and desires, and fears. Understandable ones, like fire and insects, as simple as their desires of sun and water but not too much of either, and Martina knew there was a lot of translation happening, but it had still given her pause the next time she’d gone to bite into a peach.
It hadn’t lasted long, though, as the practicality of hunger had forced the questioning philosophy to yield, but Martina still had some conflict around the idea of eating not just something that was capable of some degree of thought, but a person through and through, especially one she’d known and cared for.
To Gurt’s mom, though, Martina knew it was just a thing. Once she was dead she was just meat, and she didn’t want good meat going to waste – and was very upset that, in Labsallidas, there were very tight restrictions on what you were or were not allowed to do with a person’s body after death.
Zombies tended to do that.
“Well, we should go out anyway – maybe,” Martina shrugged, “we could get someone from one of the Temples to help? Cover your shifts? Maybe Aggrassyx, they’re not a butcher but they know how to handle a knife at least.”
“Maybe,” Gurt mumbled thoughtfully, but didn’t sound overly convinced.
“You know someone from Criallto would be happy to help out a neighbour,” Martina insisted softly, her thumbs working into Gurt’s back alongside her vertebrae and drawing out a series of low groans. “Or someone from Bellerrel instead – they’d be happy to, to help you get a look at the town! Especially if we were willing to help cover their shifts so they could go get a look as well. Plus I could do the talking for you.”
“That’s true, and… thanks. That’d be nice,” Gurt mumbled, nodding thoughtfully into the pillow. Her voice sounded more relenting than it had before, and Martina leaned down to give her a kiss on the back of her neck. Gurt sighed heavily, reaching back to squeeze Martina’s legs between her elbows and her chest. “Hey um… you know as long as you’re relieving tension…”
Martina laughed, the sound leaping heavily right from her chest. “What, your little fivesome earlier wasn’t enough to scratch that itch?”
She laughed again, and was just about to continue – just about to say of course, to say that Gurt was very sexy and she always liked bringing her some pleasure – when Gurt pre-empted her words. “Well, yeah, but. I dunno. Different itch. Just want you, you know?”
Martina’s laugh cut off with a soft gasp and she collapsed over Gurt’s back, stroking and kissing at skin there; during the massage Gurt’s shirt had slowly been removed further and further before being discarded entirely. “I- was absolutely already going to say yes but now I’m especially saying yes,” Martina sighed against Gurt’s skin with a smile, “because that was very sweet. Yes, please, I would love that, because I love you – why don’t you go grab something that sounds like fun, hmm? Oh, by the way, I borrowed a couple things earlier to use with someone else.”
Gurt made a very excited noise and leapt up to run off to her knapsack, forgetting two things: her shirtlessness, and the fact that Martina was sitting on her back.
One of those two things changed as Gurt stood and dashed off, though, and Martina yelped and laughed lightly as she was thrown free and fell onto the bed, and thankfully, not off the bed.
Not this time, at least.
While she was gone, Martina took a moment to direct her hands at her own aches and pains. Nothing serious, nothing major, but the sort of thing which just built up over time; the sort of thing that was so very easy to ignore while anything else was happening, while anything else needed to be done. While anybody else needed you.
They did build up over time, though, the little aches and pains. As they did, they accentuated each other: one finger got sore and so it naturally stepped back and reduced its own strength – which was all fine, but it did require the other fingers to work that much harder to take up the slack, which only made it more likely that they would get sore in turn.
Martina groaned softly as she rubbed at the bones of one hand with her other hand, and then swapped; it was easy not to notice how sore things were becoming until something prodded them.
There might’ve been something in that. Something she could take to the Temple – to the one she was in charge of, because she still wasn’t certain of quite what to make it all about. Quite what the point of it all should be, but it felt like there was something of a lesson in the way things could accumulate. The way they could build up over time without notice.
The only question was whether, in terms of a sermon or a parable, the audience should be the one making things pile up, or the one being warned against their piling?
Martina’s rambling thoughts pulled back as Gurt turned the corner, returning slightly breathless with a grin and a harness, and Martina couldn’t help but laugh at the excitement on Gurt’s face.
She’d always been a fan.
“Open it, open it!”
Gurt’s lower lip twisted to be between her teeth in a face of focused dedication, and a combination of groans and laughter accompanied her as she carefully opened up the present; untying the knots and unfolding the paper rather than cutting or ripping anything.
“You’re killing me, Gurt,” Collaia groaned, fiddling with the new piercing in the top of her ear; her new boyfriend had bought it for her, apparently.
It looked a little worrisome to Martina, the skin around it quite pink. The whole top half of Collaia’s ear, actually, very pink – but, her skin was sort of pinkish anyway, so Martina wasn’t really sure she could say definitively one way or another. Collaia’s ear also looked a bit swollen, rounder and puffier – but, again, Martina knew that her ears were going to be less round and puffy for the elven pointedness that she’d inherited from her mom.
Collaia assured her it was fine, though. Sharply, in fact.
“Come- just-” Collaia slid forward with a huff, grabbing at a knife off to the side that Gurt hadn’t touched in the slightest. “Here, I’ll do it, just-”
“Oh come on, it’s her present,” Martina protested with a laugh. “If she wants to take forever opening it, she can do that!”
“It’s also my present,” Collaia sighed, rolling her eyes heavily. “My present to her, so-” she stuck out her tongue in lieu of actually finishing the sentence, drawing laughter and giggles from the other girls.
Gurt didn’t take that long, though, to get the twine untied and the paper unwrapped, revealing a box just about the size the present had been to begin with – about a hand’s width thick and wide, and probably somewhere between the length of Martina’s hand and double that much. Wooden box, thin wood, relatively, and whatever had been branded into the outside of the box had been scratched at with a nail or a pin until it was completely indiscernible.
The box was tied up too, and everybody groaned again as Gurt set to untying the knots.
“Seriously!” Collaia threw her hands up in the air. “Alright, everyone remind me never to bother wrapping her present again, okay? I mean thank fuck your mom never got you a puppy as a present, it would be dead before you got the box open.”
Martina half-gasped at that, both the idea of it all and the harshness of Collaia’s swear, and then she shifted to sit with her knees pinching her head between them, in hopes that it would hide her blush, because she was old enough that she shouldn’t be blushing at the word fuck.
Finally, Gurt managed to get the box open, and pulled it open to reveal a fair quantity of straw that she thankfully scattered everywhere with a great deal of swiftness in order to finally pull out her gift, and Martin looked at it in momentary confusion.
Glass, maybe as thick as two fingers and shaped not dissimilarly, like two fingers of glass side by side and twirling around each other along their length, with ribbons of colour twisting inside the whole of it as well. It was very pretty, and the end that Martina could see had a bit of a bulb on it, just a gentle one, but she wasn’t sure-
“Oh my-” Bryuha burst out, cutting off with a squeak. “Is that what I think it is?”
Collaia laughed blatantly, forcefully, as Gurt’s eyebrow raised. Bryuha made a circle with her thumb and forefinger and leaned forward, pushing the glass through the ring, and Collaia made a sound to go with it – a sort of high-pitched yell of a moan – and Gurt’s eyes widened suddenly as everyone burst into laughter.
Martina’s eyes widened too, her knees tightening on her cheeks as she stared, then tore her eyes sharply away, and then went back to staring again. She knew what it was. Generally. She’d heard about them before.
“Did you really get her a-” Martina’s eyes darted around nervously, and her voice dropped suddenly to a hiss whisper for a single word, “dildo,” before rising back to a still-low but non-whispered level, “for her birthday? I mean where did you even-”
“At the fucking dildo store, Martina,” Collaia bobbed her head from side to side with each sharply underlined syllable, staring straight into Martina’s eyes – as if daring her to whisper, to hush her, to shush her, or maybe daring her to blush or panic and run away from the conversation. “What did you think I was gonna get for her birthday, huh? I mean she’s sixteen now and still no boyfriend. I’m very sensitive to the needs of my single friends.”
She tossed her hair over her shoulder, as if she’d had her boyfriend for more than a month.
Martina tried to say something else, but couldn’t find the breath to do so, and she thanked her lucky stars that she hadn’t chosen to open her mouth before she’d started to talk because it might’ve been the only thing that saved her from looking like even more of an embarrassed child than she already did, in her own opinion at least. She couldn’t keep looking at Collaia without continuing the conversation, and couldn’t look at the dildo, and didn’t know where else to look, but a bit of movement out of the corner of her eye drew her attention.
A grin, on Gurt’s lips. She was holding the piece of glasswork up to the window, and the light streaming through window made the ribbons of colour brighten up substantially. Or at least, as far as Martina could see, only looking at it sideways.
“Thanks,” Gurt blurted, wrapping her arms around Collaia – and there followed a lot of teasing and laughter directed Gurt’s way, but throughout it all she just kept looking at the glass and grinning.
It ended up being only the first piece out of many. For one reason or another, Gurt had just taken to the concept, and Martina had become familiar with Gurt’s collection as well. Collection really was the appropriate term, as well, because plenty of people had a toy or two stuffed into the back of their sock drawer.
Gurt’s sock drawer, on the other hand, had no socks. Those stayed in a drawstring bag that she hung off the back of her chair, and the sock drawer was devoted entirely to sex toys.
Martina giggled and grinned as she briefly eyed the one Gurt held, a red velvet strap-on with a porcelain dong that had four smoothed sawtooth ridges along its length that corkscrewed around, giving it a pattern of bumps that Martina knew to be very fun.
It was also a nice one because the porcelain didn’t stop at the velvet. There was an extension that ran back and had a couple of bumps on it as well, which Martina also knew could be quite fun for the person wearing it.
It had been her birthday gift to Gurt for a twenty-somethingth birthday, twenty something, ten or so years before, and had seen good use that day and many times since.
“It’s a good old friend,” Martina giggled softly as she hopped up out of the bed.
“Old?” Gurt snorted. “Yeah right. Can’t even buy its own drinks at the bar.”
“Depends on the bar,” Martina muttered, drawing a snort of a laugh from Gurt, who carried on into goofy laughter for a moment.
“Dildo can’t even buy its own dildo!” Gurt guffawed, and Martina laughed as she stepped over and began to slip off her skirt, but Gurt tossed the harness onto the bed and helped out instead.
Martina sighed, immediately abandoning her hands’ efforts in favour of running them up to Gurt’s head and shoulders as the other woman kissed at her neck and her ear, strong fingers easily tugging buttons open – and quickly, too. With a rough groan, Martina caught Gurt’s mouth with her own as Gurt stroked a hand firmly over the front of Martina’s panties before pulling them down.
“You’re very sexy,” Martina muttered heatedly against Gurt’s lips. “You have a preference for who goes first?”
Gurt blurted a single laugh. “Uh. Your legs look pretty shaky…”
“So your solution is to make them shakier?” Martina threw her head back for a cackle which got cut off into a moan as Gurt’s tusks and lips pressed into it and she caught the back of Gurt’s head, holding her there for a moment. “Mmm, you first I think if you don’t mind. Take your pants off while I get this thing on, and lay you back over the bed, d’you think?”
Gurt nodded excitedly and promptly went to work, and it didn’t take long to take off a pair of pants. She did nearly fall over once, but caught herself on the bed which shook heavily under her solid contact and made Martina giggle briefly as she tightened up straps around her hips and thighs and took a second to spread a little bit of lube out of a jar onto the porcelain. It was probably fine without, but better safe than sorry.
When she was done a moment later, Gurt hopped up onto the edge of the bed happily and welcomed Martina with wide arms and legs both, wrapping both of them behind Martina’s back as their mouths met. One of Gurt’s hands briefly slipped away to guide the porcelain in, drawing a slow groan from her throat as Martina pressed in.
Martina dedicated her mouth to Gurt’s collarbone and neck, relishing the way Gurt’s strong limbs wrapped around her; holding her close, urging her deeper, helping to guide and time and underline her strokes and more. Caressing, squeezing, holding, stroking – a hand tightened up on Martina’s shoulder as Gurt groaned sharply, another trailed a long loving line down her spine while Gurt slowly sighed, a leg wrapped around and pulled Martina’s hips sharply in as Gurt spat a soft swear.
Words weren’t necessarily her strong suit, but it was a little better when other people around. A little better, the less stressed Gurt was. The two counteracted each other a bit, but she also didn’t need words to make herself understood.
Her fingers curling urgently at Martina’s back said “more” just as well as her lips could’ve, her legs wrapped firmly around Martina’s hips said “deeper” every bit as thoroughly and arousingly as the strongest chesty growl. Her sharp cries devoid of any letters or form were every bit as much feedback as what they lacked would’ve been; “yes,” they said, “so good, just like that!”
Martina panted into Gurt’s shoulder, occasionally licking or biting down moderately as she caught her breath enough to do so. She grasped at Gurt’s fairly muscular breasts, letting out soft groans of her own at the way the porcelain ridge on the backside of the harness rode against her ridge of skin and sensitivity, shifting with every thrust.
“Gh- yeah Martina,” Gurt gasped, grabbing at Martina’s chest. “J- h-yeah yeah like- yes- yes!”
Martina picked up her end of things, giving as much breath as she could afford to words. “Oh yeah, you like that? Mm, me too babe – your body feels so good against mine, Gurt, fuck yeah!”
All at once, the limbs wrapping around her stiffened, and for a moment Martina thought she knew why – but as her feet left the floor, all her hard-fought breath left her in a startled yelp as Gurt rolled back and pulled her along, and Martina laughed breathlessly as they collapsed back onto the bedspread.
“Go- go on,” Gurt urged her gently, squeezing at Martina’s butt and pulling her in deeper. Giggling somewhat, Martina picked up the pace again, and her giggles soon gave way to panting breaths and huffed swears once more, her lips and fingertips, teeth and nails finding her friend’s familiar green skin time and time again, and the next time Gurt suddenly stiffened it was for a very different reason.
“Ye- yeah Martina yes- shit shit-” Gurt panted swiftly and then threw her head back into the bed with a large, rough groan, and her legs wrapped so tightly around Martina that she couldn’t thrust anymore and was simply locked into place, buried deep for several seconds.
She kept trying, of course, and was able to shift a little bit at least.
Gurt relaxed with a drawn-out groan of a sigh, kissing Martina deeply, and Martina hummed a gentle moan into her friend’s mouth. “Okay,” Gurt sighed, grinning and letting out a soft giggle.
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