Today’s prompt selection was: Mirror sex, Golden shower, Dubcon. I went for… a twist on mirror sex. Mindfucky mirror sex? Mind-sharing sex. Two characters with psychic abilities join minds during sex.
This story takes place in the magical land of Arellan, which has magical abilities and magical healing.
Iolanda is a young woman of hellish ancestry with horns, a tail, and pink skin, and due to an entirely unrelated pact with Bezzal, the Princess of Hell, she has the ability to communicate into people’s minds.
Izzrannyk (Izzy) is a dwarf of a fairly important if often forgotten family, and a good deal of personal ambition, who is also secretly of hellish ancestry. Her horns are filed down every morning to hide them under her hair, and her tail was surgically amputated at birth – the surgeon said it was wrapped around her neck. In an unrelated move, Izzrannyk has become a peon of Bezzal, the Princess of Hell, and has gained the ability to communicate into people’s minds.
With both of them capable of projecting thoughts, feelings, sensations, sights, and anything else, into each other’s minds, they decide to see how deep that rabbit hole can go, and they do eventually remember which body belongs to which of them. They think.
Italics denote thought and mental impression/communication.
This story is told in second-person (and uh I don’t know hybrid?) POV, and involves two women having sex whilst sharing their sensations with each other, the writing growing very twisty and convoluted as they do; there is oral and digital sex, sex toys, use of other bodily appendages (tail) for sex, and a brief but fairly deep dive into Izzrannyk sharing her love of choking with Iolanda in a fairly literal sense.
If this sounds like fun, read on. If not, don’t.
After the break, things get spicy – and weird, but I like it.
“Finally!” Your words emerged directly into her mouth, spoken in the brief space of time as a gap developed in a kiss, your hands tugging at her shirt – lifting it up over her head hurriedly and throwing it off to the side.
She replied, but not with words, not with a voice; tension releasing, a long procession of increment after increment finally finding fulfilment, satisfaction; as her hands caught twisted fistfuls of the fabric of your sundress. Your lips press to hers as your bodies press closer as well, her taller than you, straining your neck but not unpleasantly – you feel her tongue dancing with yours and yours with hers; from both sides at once, two tongues attached to your mind for a moment and feeding both sets of feedback into you – your hand clutched at Izzy’s breast and you felt the squeeze of it even though both of her hands were at your sides and pulling at your dress.
“Makin’ me dizzy with that,” you huffed as she pulled off your dress.
“I’ll take that as a compliment!” The words shot into your mind propelled by amusement and lust, as Izzy tugged velvet down and to the side out of the way, freeing one of your breasts enough to catch the nipple between her lips and swirl the tip of her tongue in a circle around it, and you felt the texture of it against her your tongue even as you felt the same from the other side through your nipple firming up as she flicked at it – or as you did?
“No really,” you protested, but only lightly, “I cain’t keep it straight what’s you or what’s me!”
“Who cares?” Izzy pulled her mouth free to lick a line up your neck, and then withdrew with a grin and a raised eyebrow. “What I mean to say is, doesn’t that sound like a bit of fun? I would say I’ve lost myself to the moment a fair few times during moments of passion, found myself doing things I didn’t necessarily expect or fully deliberately intend.”
You nodded softly, your hands unbuttoning her pants automatically; you didn’t have to think about it, to direct them consciously to grip like this and move like that and twist like so in order to swivel button through hole and then again and again – they just knew what they were doing, and it freed your mind to think of more important things. Things like how soft Izzy’s skin was against your fingers, against the back of your hand as you unbuttoned her waistband – things like the way she shifted and shivered at the touch of your hand, things like the look in her eye and the smirk on her lips.
“Yeah, suppose that’s true,” you grinned. “I just- I dunno. You’re right, I ain’t exactly plannin’ everythin’ out neither. Feels like my body just kinda knows what to do half the time.”
“I trust your body to know what to do with mine,” Izzy murmured, stroking a hand up your velvet-lined side and following it with her eyes before they met yours, lingering long and lustfully there. “I want to lose myself with you – to lose track of what’s your hand and what’s mine, of who’s moaning and who’s hearing it. To drop any hint of me or you and just be… us.”
You grabbed her head with both hands, pulling her mouth passionately to yours and opening your experience to her mind; her hands stroking at your side and the way they stutter like a mid-syllable surprise before moving with renewed vigor and thrill, the velvet simultaneously dampening and enhancing the touch of her hand as it alters the sensation like some new spice added to a food you already loved; one of her hands drops to the lingerie’s hem and finds the skin underneath it, one outside of the garment and one in letting the sensations stand in clear and thrilling contrast to each other as your mouth and hers fuse.
Her moan sank into your mouth as yours joined it, both muffled by sealed lips and writhing tongues; velvet under fingertips and skin as well and who could say which was better? Her hand clutches at your breast as another slips down into your open waistband and makes you whine into her mouth with how much you want her, and she knows it – you know she knows it as your thoughts reflect into hers and hers into yours: you feel her absorb your thoughts and not bother teasing or toying or warming you up, knowing full well that you are slick and ready and desperate and you shout a groan into her mouth as she swiftly sinks a pair of fingers into you.
Izzy clenched tight around your fingers as she pulled her mouth away and to your collarbone, setting teeth to it and making you gasp as she continued to push her experience through and into yours, the two of them intermingling and bouncing between each other. Your lips slide across her skin as you lick a quick circle around a nipple; her mouth latches onto one of your breasts and it seems to send off sparks through your skin as her tongue laps a loop around it while your arm strains with the effort of trying to bury your two fingers deeper because she wants them deeper, you can feel that she wants them deeper as you//; you want her fingers deeper, your knees pulling to the outside as you groan into your mouthful of her flesh loudly as she does her best but geometry is the true enemy of the effort.
One of you – both of you – push toward the bed, pull toward the bed, grab each other and move as one toward the bed and she pulls you on top of her except it takes you a moment to realize the bedspread pressing against your back is hers; the weight of her on your shoulders pinning you to the bed is wonderful but you want her in you again – as your legs kick in attempts to remove their garments hers join you in easy synchronicity, while her tail rises to tickle against the inside of your thigh.
Izzy’s pants came off fairly easily with three legs and a hand helping, each of them aware of the others’ existence to some extent; you accidentally grabbed a handful of your own hair aiming for hers, but that was fine – you tugged on it and a rough groan ripped from her throat as if it had been her hair, and you felt it in your fingers and you felt it reflected at you into your mind as if it was her feeling it and sending it to you, and maybe it was – it ceased to matter as you fell down onto her or she dropped onto you, and your mouth or her mouth couldn’t be differentiated as both of your tongues writhed together like your bodies and you felt both of them, all of them, fingers entwining and skin and lace and velvet all at once.
Your fingers thrust into her easily again and as they do, she catches your tail; Izzy half-yelped excited and aroused as for the first time she shared in the sensation and sensitivity of your tail, her own being very small and vestigial; you twitch and almost release her tail at the rush of unfamiliar sensations, the way it tingles and tickles and seems to sparkle along the skin – your fingers retreat reflexively, tracing exploratory patterns and you shiver and groan as you feel the way it feels to her, while her fingers take advantage of your position – your knees spread wider, your hips shifting and her hand shifting to shove her fingers deeper and you count yourself lucky you’re breathless because it’s all that keeps you from screaming, though the essence of it carries into her regardless.
Izzy’s fingers stroked cautiously but not hesitantly at your tail, squeezing lightly and stroking along it, trailing over the tip which made her whimper while you joined her in chorus; like stroking a fingertip over a thoroughly aroused nipple, firm and hard and on edge, that’s how it is when you touch the tip of her tail, and you pull it up toward your mouth and make her gasp when you lick it, the warmth of your tongue sending shivers down her spine which you can feel as your own//; her back arches against the bed underneath you as she takes your tail into her mouth and the warmth of it, the way she swirls her tongue around its tip in combination with how tight she is around your fingers//; her fingers deep inside curling up toward your belly button plunging raking making you gasp groan grunt moan//; her voice loud in your ear even despite being muffled by your tail as you shudder weakly above her barely able to hold yourself upright with one arm but she doesn’t want//;; she doesn’t want to squish you to pin you to stop you breathing but you do want it want her weight on you fingers in you moans in your ear as you press her tail deep enough into your mouth to feel it pushing on your throat and you can feel it too//; your tail’s sensitive tip shoved firmly against the back of her mouth and you can feel it filling your mouth her mouth your mouths both as everyone’s fingers fill holes and your arm collapses and//; her weight falls onto you and ejects all the air in your lungs and it comes out as a shout of her name, her tail popping free of your mouth but not your hand and you clutch at her hair firmly as you reach around and shove the tip of her tail into her with a shout as you feel it filling and stretching you//; she doesn’t push it in too fast or too deep but stops just short, your nerves on the sharp edge of TOO MUCH but not overtaking it not falling off of it, she holds you dangling off of the cliff but doesn’t let you fall and you half-scream her name into the bed beside her head or maybe it’s your name as both of your pussies are filled by your hands or her tail or her hands or your tail plunging deep and her mind writhes white-hot as her body does the same underneath// overtop you as your fingers tighten: around your tail// in your hair – her mind screams into yours as your mouth shouts ecstasy into hers echoing, your twin tongues dancing deliciously as you share in shivering shuddering shaking-
Panting. The next thing you were fully aware of was panting, Izzy lying beside you – you raised a hand and saw pink skin, and it took you a moment to remember if that was how it was supposed to be. “Am- am- was I the one with the tail before?”
Izzy chuckled breathlessly, laying on her back, her lungs heaving; bra removed at some point. She let her head tip over until she was looking at you and let it bob back and forth, shaking, as she grinned. “I honestly can’t recall. I suppose we’ll know for certain if I go in to work and everyone gets very mad at me.”
“I c-” your breath ran dry and empty and you gasped another one in deep. “I c’n check with someone here. Jus’ go say ‘hi, am I Iolanda?’ an’ that’ll prob’ly work. That was good.”
“Thank Bezzal,” Izzy murmured, then laughed. “Also, surely you could just approach someone we both know and say hello, and see what name they use to refer to you?”
The sound of Her name sent a particular shiver through you, especially used in that kind of context – you were used to hearing certain names at times like those. Times of passion, of unity, of togetherness; Bellerrel was, of course, quite common. Craillto was often prayed to as well – or Gallarrel perhaps, or maybe Zlalga, but Bezzal-
Your shiver lingered on your arms in the form of goosebumps. “That- whatcha mean by that? The uh- the ‘thank- -Bezzal’ bit.” Your mouth tried to fail you at the approach of Her name, but you forced it to continue.
“Just that she’s the one who granted me this power, to contact minds,” Izzy murmured, then tipped her head away from you, brushing her curly black hair back from her ear to show off a familiar-looking mark. A pair of lips, like a lingering kiss of someone wearing too much lipstick that wasn’t sufficiently fast to remain on their lips instead of on your skin.
You were quite confident that it was permanent, though.
“Looks um-” you cleared your throat, taking her hand and laying it on one of your breasts – one which bore a very similar-looking mark. You’d gone to a tattoo parlour, though, and had them outline the mark to stylize it a bit, making it look like simply an aesthetic choice. “Looks familiar.”
Izzy chuckled. “Yes, well,” her eyes flicked up to raise yours. “Thank Bezzal, then.”
She didn’t say it as a command, not meant in the sense of ‘you should thank Bezzal’ but rather as the active form – that, in saying it, she was thanking Bezzal.
“Th-that was real good,” you murmured, “for both of us, so I guess I should…” You took a deep breath, tension building in your gut and making you shiver slightly in anticipation of the words you knew you were about to say. “Thank you Bezzal.”
Izzy’s grin twitched a little wider. Thoughts drifted into your mind, feelings; curiosity, request – a desire to know your feelings as her own.
Blushing softly, you steeled yourself and did so. Brought memories to mind of moments ago and muttered, “Thanks be to Bezzal,” and sent the ensuing flood to Izzy; a rush through your skin and gut like embarrassment – but if the flood is embarrassment, then it carries with it a great deal of debris flushing swiftly along with it and through you and those debris are thrills, excitement, taboo satisfaction and delight.
The reply came as swiftly as your reflection would mimic you in a mirror; desire, longing burning deep inside as the clay and realizations of the moment becoming the hands of thought to form that raw material into a plan, a wish; her on her back, her tail inside herself competing and cooperating with your tongue as she shouts out the name which clearly thrills her to the ceiling alongside your own.
A slow cold chill sank through you as you sorted out you from her, adjusting for which side of mirror you were on; she wanted you on your back, her head between your legs and your tail there as well, as you moaned Bezzal’s name.
The cold chill shot swiftly to your gut and turned into bright tension, making your breath catch in your throat, and it only redoubled when you nodded, but once more the embarrassment and fear brought with it excitement and thrill and delight.
However, you did make one adjustment to the plan; receiving it over the mental link, Izzy nodded with a grin and turned away, reaching into Naerwyl’s purse to produce the little vibrating egg she’d used earlier; it would fit well into your palm, held tight against you as your fingers filled yourself, that sensation to mash and merge with hers, being filled by her tail with your tongue on her.
You shivered, anticipation resting tense in your muscles as you laid back and Izzy kissed at your knee. Her mouth followed a loose, curving path but an inexorable one with a clear destination – to the inside of your thigh and along, higher and higher, and with every step along that path her kisses became messier, lips parting and tongue lapping. As she did, she began to trickle thoughts into your mind, the two of your experiences joining like creeks to form a river; the salt of sweat mixing with more and more of a tangy flavour as your tongue tastes the skin of her thigh. You muffle a sound against her skin but feel it full in your chest – the egg responds well, just as she explained that it would, the stone vibrating in your palm just as Iolanda had mentally assured you it would-
Your shoulders thrust back against the bed as Izzy’s fingers slid into herself and you felt it as if they were your own, your fingers in yourself, and you echoed the sensation back at her as if it was your own, groaning lustfully at the vibrations sinking into her your sensitive flesh from the egg you she held in the same hand and you let go of any concept of you or her; the bedspread against your back as fingers spread as well and made your lungs and legs burn, two of your hands clutch at her hair while one of them twists to angle fingers deeper into yourself and presses the stone egg against your clit, and your fourth hand grabs your tail; your tongue flicks from your pussy to your tail, licking a long line along one to the other and then introducing them firsthand, your fingers curling deep in one pussy while the other stretches as your tail fills it, one clit vibrating with the stone while you lick at the other one, clutching your hair of your head between your legs with one hand while another grabs at your breasts indiscriminately and you shout a moan into your wet tangy flesh and feel the vibrations in your tail as you convulse around it – around your fingers as well, clenching and shouting out with your other mouth; one mouth licks and moans while the other says Her name, and her name, and your name – Bezzal and Iolanda and Izzy.
Your hips jerk at the sound of it all in your ears, at how you taste lips pressed against lips, at the feel of your tongue against your tail – jerk and rock and grind one clit down against the vibrating stone egg while spurring your tongue on to flick more vigorously against your other clit, your fingers tightening in your hair until just short of the point of pain; you muffle a lusty scream of satisfaction into your pussy with one mouth while the other has nothing to muffle and shouts out at the ceiling-
“Bellerrel and Bezzal yes, fuck, Gods an’ Devils both yes Izzy Iolanda!”
-her words your words they’re all your words, you and she both one, sharing each thrust of each of your hips and every twitch of your fingers or of yours; you clutch hard at one of your breasts and put a sharp edge on your own desperate groan – in response, you shove your tail another half-inch deeper into yourself and make yourself see stars as you slide a second finger into your other pussy with another hand; your legs clamp tight around your head as you wrench at your hair as if you want to tear it out, words devolving to formless sound as your other legs collapse and leave you bucking against your hand and the vibrating egg, coming as you orgasm and orgasming as you come, moaning into yourself as you twist your other head sideways to catch a mouthful of pillow and groan a half-scream throatily and loud while your hands clutch at anything they can find, one of your pussies clenching tight around your sensitive tail while the other crushes your knuckles together but you don’t let that stop them from plunging in and out – either of them – until you’re at the edge of too much, the fuzzy borderline between “Gods that’s good” and “Gods help me”.
You collapse against you, hauling your sweat slicked body up across you as your tail slides out of yourself, your fingers pulling shaking loose and discarding the egg off to your side as you pull your mouth to your mouth and kiss you deep, your tongue curling around your tongue as your moan echoes into your mouth.
“Thank Bezzal,” you moaned against her lips, shivering and twitching as she laid her weight down on your chest, shaking a little against you.
“Thank you,” Izzy sighed, kissing softly at your jaw, back to your neck. “Which one of us has the tail?”
“Me right now,” you huffed, half-laughing as your hands stroked over her sweaty back and held her close, her weight stifling your shivers but only nicely. “I swear I didn’t have one earlier though,” you murmured, some confusion clouding your thoughts – the two of you wordlessly having agreed to separate your rivers of consciousness once more. “Although I cain’t remember how I lost it. Or was I born without one? I think I-”
Izzy blurted a laugh against the crook of your neck, then pushed herself shakily up to grin at you and kiss you, your tongue flicking out to taste the echoes of yourself in her mouth.
“Well, I believe we can confidently say we’re all the right way ‘round,” Izzy chuckled, laying herself down and resting her head on your shoulder with a sigh. “And well done, as well, for discovering such a clever way of sorting one from the other, because I can recall what happened to the tail, or at least what I’ve been told.”
One of your hands rose to stroke through her hair, fingers twisting to try to undo or avoid sweaty tangles there as you kissed at her forehead, one of her small horns mostly hidden in her hair pressing against your cheek. “What’s that? What happened with the tail?”
Izzy sighed contentedly against your skin. “A story for another time I think. Suffice to say I was born with one, but can’t actually remember having it – and now that I think of it,” she chuckled further, “I distinctly recall being recently envious of other hands and mouths enjoying this pink-skinned body, and I didn’t go up on stage tonight, so it must be yours.”
“Yeah I remember my horns bein’ real tough for helmets,” you murmured, her head against your mouth muddying and muffling the words but you didn’t care, “so these ones gotta be mine.”
You shivered a little more, pleased to be back as you were meant to be – pleased with it all, holding her close as the heat faded away and left you slightly chilly as sweat began to dry off of your skin. “I’mma grab a magic cloth and clean us up. In a second.”
“In a second,” Izzy echoed, her arms wrapping behind you as she nodded against your shoulder. “That was…incredible. That was unlike anything I’ve experienced before- thank you.”
“You too,” you hummed with a nod, “thank you too. An’ I ain’t had anythin’ like that before either. You know I thought before it’d be nice to have four hands,” you giggled softly.
Izzy returned your laughter, nuzzling at your neck. “Myself as well – mostly during sex or work.”
One of your (sadly, only two) hands stroked at the back of your head as a chuckle blurted out of your lips. “Honey I think most of what you do is either durin’ sex or work. I dunno that you do a lot else.”
“Hey!” Izzy poked a finger lightly into your side. “Look who’s talking, eh? How many jobs exactly do you have right now?”
You opened your mouth to retort that you only had one: taking down the Order. Then you remembered that you did have a show that night, which you’d been paid for, and there would be more shows, and that was definitely a job. Riiyzbeth called you a co-worker, as well, which suggested that that was a job – and if you working for Bezzal was a job, then surely the tasks you’d been given from the Heavens were a job as well, and if those were jobs then your own self-imposed more worldly oath surely counted as well, and while it was nice to be your own boss at least a little bit, it also meant that you’d gone in the space of a few moments from having one job to having more than you could count.
Izzy giggled, and pulled your thoughts out of the sharp spiral; she kissed you and your scowling frown evaporated, and you couldn’t help but join her in laughter and joy.
You didn’t bother answering her question, trying to come up with an actual number of how many jobs you had, because that didn’t seem like the important part – and she didn’t ask again. After another moment you wordlessly parted from each other – not opening your minds to each other but moving in synchronicity anyway, which you’d done even before developing any such mental link.
The cloth made short work of clearing away all sweat, which helped with your chill; meanwhile, Izzy returned the vibrating stone into Naerwyl’s purse. As you cleaned – Izzy first, and then yourself – Izzy started to get dressed again, pulling on her panties and pants, and got as far as her bra though her pants weren’t buttoned up yet by the time you got done cleaning yourself off with the magical cloth and then needed another few cuddles. You pulled Izzy close again with a sigh and held her close, her head against your chest, and let out a long, slow, and satisfied sigh.
Without realizing it, your hand came to rest on the back of her neck – and as you parted slightly your eyes fell to her throat, recalling an earlier overseen moment between her and Gurt, and your hand shifted around to rest on her collarbone. Your thumb stretched out to stroke up her neck and she let out a hum and quirked an eyebrow.
“I saw you with Gurt earlier, that’s nice,” you smiled, “she’s real sweet – got nice strong hands too.”
“Little bit of texture makes them more interesting I think,” Izzy mused in agreement and you giggled.
“Y’know, I thought that too!” You nodded, then tipped your head curiously. “Mind if I ask, though…”
Your words trailed away, your hand shifting in lieu of the actual question – sliding across her skin until your hand was loosely around her throat, not choking but miming it, and Izzy’s eyes slid closed as she let out a sigh, and her lips shifted to grin wide.
“Kiss me and choke me,” she murmured, eyes still closed, “and I’ll show you just what it’s about.”
With a nod, you leaned closer, her mouth parting against yours as your hand tightened at her throat, and she sent sensations and thoughts into your mind; a warm mouth on yours, her tongue soft yet firm and delicious as her hand clutches tighter at your throat. You want it tighter still and wordlessly she complies, stifling the moan that springs forth with the strength of her hand; sensation all along your neck sending soft shivers down your spine and feeling like a tension gently between your shoulderblades, it could be the whetstone to sharpen other feelings or it could be the winding-up spring to fuel something else.
Without a word she gives you what you want, pushing you backward and pinning you down to the bed by your neck and a squeak leaks out of your throat as she presses you into the mattress, and it spreads out from her hand like warmth; delight and lust, and while your lungs might be devoid of air the fires within you seem to find plenty. It’s not the air that you want to be deprived of, anyway; as she realizes this she lets go of some of the pressure on the front of your throat while not lessening up on the rest of your neck, restricting airflow but not cutting it off entirely and a squeak grows immediately into a throaty groan.
It’s a loss of control, and a surrender of it; you trust her, deep in your heart and soul, and some parts of your body might be spurred and shocked and startled as if worried they’ll be hurt but you know you won’t be, you know she’d never hurt you – the parts of you which react as if she will, though, send a rush under your skin, down your spine, through every limb, adrenaline and thrill and excitement. Everything in your life is stressful, all of it weighing on you and seeming to be your weight to bear – questions you need to answer and tasks you need to undertake, and it’s such a relief to let that all go; all the anxiety squeezes out of you through the pressure she applies to your throat.
She slides a pair of fingers into you just like you want her to and you go to moan loudly but she catches the sound in her hand as it tightens around your throat, which only gives the gesture more force and turns it into a bright delighted squeal – she presses a little harder, the bed pushing up against your shoulders and your back with her weight on your neck, her fingers curling up toward your belly button as she presses a deep kiss to your mouth, her tongue plunging in as easily and as deep as her fingers between a different set of lips, and you shiver through a gentle and soft orgasm as she pins you down too heavily to buck or shake; as she meters your ecstasy just as she controls your air, and your everything else; lust struck through with love, vulnerability edged with trust, control met with respect and desire, your heart and mind and body all merging in a big resounding yes.
You gasped a breath as she did the same, your one hand releasing from her throat as your other slid out from between her legs. She shivered against the bed and underneath you as you leaned overtop and kissed her deeply, humming into her mouth.
“So it’s like that,” you murmured thoughtfully against her lips.
“So it’s like that,” she chuckled back to you. “What do you think?”
A little shiver ran up your spine, spreading out and onto your arms. “I-I like it,” you slightly stammered and then giggled, nodding, “I really liked it? It was- it felt real good from you, an’ it also felt good to do. It felt real… real intimate? Like the trust involved made it more intimate or somethin’, an’ also excitin’.”
You let out a soft, happy sigh. “Plus I probably don’t gotta worry too much ‘bout it gettin’ outta hand, with the speakin’ in folks’ minds an’ all? An’ I c’n heal an’ stuff too, so- yeah, I’m gonna be doin’ that again.”
Izzy laughed lightly. “Choking? Or getting choked?”
You shivered slightly as you pressed another kiss to her lips. “Both!”
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