The Heda Gets Head

It all happened the way Murphy was used to, and he was pleasantly shocked both that anything was happening the way it used to, and that he’d had Emori in his life long enough to get used to her.

She let him slide down her pants, then what passed for undergarments. He sat in the Flamekeeper’s chair, she sat on the Flamekeeper’s desk, a huge mass of oak tortured into Victorian shape, and if it was good enough for whatever CEO had had it commissioned, it was good enough for the Flamekeeper, two hundred years later. Murphy was pleased he’d been able to misuse the regalia of his station in such a short amount of time.

Emori raised her knees up over his shoulders and he buried his face in her sex, sucking at it until he found her clitoris, right where it used to be, and had her writhing frantically, screaming and groaning.

“I want you to fuck me,” she mumbled, “I want your cock inside me.”

“Really?” he asked. “Sure you don’t want this?” And he returned his lips to her slit, kissing it, lapping at it, like his life depending on getting her wet, like she was his only source of water.

He supposed he had Ontari to thank for teaching him that technique.

“Yeah!” Emori returned, when she wasn’t moaning. “That’s useless… you’ve really lost your touch… lucky you still have a big cock…”

It was then that the door to the Grounders’ most sacred site, and conveniently Murphy’s new make-out spot, burst open. Ontari strode in, obviously having intended another private plotting session with her co-conspirator, and maybe a little bit more, but equally obviously having heard what was going on. And, more importantly, going on without her.

“What the hell is going on here?” she demanded, her frosty voice chillier than ever.

Emori smiled wanly, almost able to ignore the hammering pulse of her lust. “The Flamekeeper giving me his blessing?”

“You swine!” Ontari shrieked.

“I do feel blessed,” Emori added, bucking her lower body into John’s mouth, trying to bringing herself off in those vacuuming lips before he managed to—

Murphy reared his head up, lips dripping with Emori’s gratitude. “This isn’t what it looks like!”

“Oh, is it really a blessing?” Ontari asked sarcastically. “Is this just how Skaikru conducts religious services? I suppose the Wanheda was doing the same for Commander Lexa?”

Murphy didn’t regret the sex, but he did resist having to pass up that amazing straight line. Really, it was the stuff dreams were made of. “She’s a… present. For you. I was just warming her up for you.”

Ontari looked Emori over, noting how the other woman preened. If there was one thing the women had in common, it was knowing how good they looked. “You expect me to believe that?”

“It’s a Skaikru custom. We do activities together to bond as a couple. Like watching movies together. Or eating dinner together. Or eating Emori together.”

“Emori?” Ontari asked, her eyes drawn closer as Emori opened her bare legs, then closed them, pumping her thighs together in supple rhythm. It was quite a sight. “That’s… not a bad name… considering some of the foolish things you Skaikru call yourselves.”

“Yeah. And she tastes great, too. Less, uh, filling. I wouldn’t expect you to mate with anyone who doesn’t taste good. Hence the taste test.”

Ontari fixed Murphy with a harsh stare. “I would expect you to stay and watch, to ensure she performs dutifully.”

“I mean, yeah, I suppose I don’t have anything better to do…”

She sniffed. “You’ll probably have to fuck me as well, after she fails to please me. After all, I can’t expect you to find me a proper lover. You’re barely one yourself.”

Murphy shrugged. “I could always retire…”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” Ontari retorted, glaring malevolent at him. “Come here. Help me with my coat.”

Slowed by any of a litany of old injures, Murphy stepped forward to get her coat for her. She was wearing a severe black dress that fit her figure quite tightly, while its sideless loincloth revealed shapely legs and knee-length leather boots, if not her groin and buttocks themselves.

“Now let’s see if your taste is as good as your…” Ontari glared significantly downward. “Taste. Emori, take your clothes off. I know the old Heda was easy to please in this department, but let’s see how you satisfy me.”

Eyebrows raised, smile undaunted, Emori complied with the would-be humiliating order, the other two watching closely. In a moment, the scavenger was standing in the middle of the room, wearing nothing but a black garter belt and nylon hose. Quite useless in trade, but she’d wanted to wear something to surprise John. It seemed to succeed in doing the same for Ontari.

“What useless garments,” Ontari said, though she was unable to stop staring at the girl’s plump breasts and neat triangle of pubic hair. “My Flamekeeper must be overpaying you if you can afford such frivolous things. Perhaps I should have you hung as a thief.”

Emori glanced at Murphy. “Girl knows how to pillow talk,” she whispered.

“You can see how I was helpless to resist such charm,” Murphy whispered back.

“Silence!” Ontari demanded. Turning on her heel, she walked to the slightly shop-worn chair of Murphy’s desk, sitting heavily in it and crossing her own attractive legs with a flourish. Her dress rode up to reveal the strong muscles of her thighs, and however apprehensive her domineering—not to mention homicidal—manner left Murphy feeling, he didn’t resist casting an admiring gaze over her shapely, booted legs.

She looked sternly back. “Now tie her up. I can’t chance that she’s an assassin. Tie her legs together, and her wrists behind her back.”

Emori traded looks with Murphy as he picked up some ropes—seemingly never in short supply among Grounders—and tied Emori’s wrists behind her back. She helpfully crossed them for him beforehand. Then he dropped to his knees and tied her legs together, at the ankles and just above the knees, the pale rope making a vivid contrast with her black stockings.

Despite her sangfroid, Emori felt her heart beating rapidly at her helplessness. She was totally in Ontari’s power.

“Now bring that here,” Ontari instructed.

Murphy rolled his eyes at Ontari making it impossible for Emori to move under her own power, just before insisting he lug her around. “You heard the lady,” he said, getting a firm grip on her.

“I meant the rope!” Ontari said shrilly. “Stop groping that beast and bring it here!”

“Well, you could’ve been more specific,” Murphy muttered, complying but feeling a back-up in his sarcasm departments. It’d finally happened. He’d found Hell on Earth: a place where complaining too much could get him killed.

Ontari tried his wrists together, then his knees, and Murphy couldn’t help but feel alarmed as he tried to figure out what depravity Ontari could get up to with two lovers instead of just one. As if cunnilingus wasn’t enough…

Seeming to sense his thoughts, Ontari favored the two of them with an imperious smile. “This is turning out to be a thoughtful gift,” she said.

Of course, Murphy also felt a bit of masochistic excitement. What was the old saying? Lie back and think of the Ark?

Could’ve been worse. Could’ve been Jaha with the severe misunderstanding of personal space…

Ontari picked up Emori’s discarded clothes and tore two strips from them—gags, Murphy figured. He hated being right; they meekly opened their mouths and permitted themselves to be gagged by Ontari.

“Now I think I’ll make myself comfortable,” Ontari told the pair of them. “After all, I’m not a slave!”

God, but some people could rub it in.

She undressed, Emori giving a start, Murphy taking it in stride as she removed her dress, leaving her body in a well-filled black bra, matching panties, and the black leather boots. Her figure was robust and strong, but damn attractive, and the black garments made an appealing contrast with her pale skin. The two prisoners started intently at the woman who held them in her power.

After pausing for a moment to give them time to admire her figure, Ontari casually reached behind her back and undid her bra. Her large breasts tumbled from the cups of the undergarment as she pulled it off, and she smiled with pride as she noticed that her two captives were staring in admiration.

After waiting a moment to prolong the tension, Ontari slipped her hands into the waistband of her panties and pulled them down, stepping out of them, making no effort to conceal the dark-brown hair at the junction of her legs. Murphy traded a look with Emori. Her excitement was rising as well, though not quite as visibly as his. He looked back at Ontari, standing magnificently in front of them, her hands on her sides and her booted feet well apart.

“You two are going to worship your Commander,” she told them with a freezing glare. She motioned to Murphy. “Come here, slave!”

Forced to shuffle by the bonds at his ankles, Murphy made his way to Ontari where she seated herself on a lone chair like it was a throne.

“Down on your knees!” she commanded. “I want our guest to get a good look at what’s in store for her!”

Murphy mumbled into his gag, knowing his comment was inaudible, but feeling a little better at the thought of voicing whatever opinion of Ontari he liked. He sank to his knees, Ontari’s shapely legs now only inches away. From her position nearby, Emori watched intently.

“Now I’m going to take the gag away,” Ontari told him. “But that’s for my benefit. Not yours.”

Murphy submissively lowered his head; she reached behind him to unfasten the gag. Emori had to have her coat ripped up for that?

“Now I want you to show my boots the respect due all parts of your Heda,” Ontari told him haughtily.

Murphy swallowed, but complied. Inclining his face toward the floor, he ran his tongue across the toe of her right boot. Even he went red with humiliation, even if he found the submissive act a little… well, not the worst thing in the world. Compared to the usual torture he got from Grounders, this was a walk in the park.

He licked the toes of both boots until they were shiny wet, then Ontari pushed his head back. “That’s enough! It’s obvious you like kissing my boots.”

Murphy cast a shamefaced glance at Emori. She looked… interested. Christ, he hoped this wasn’t giving her any ideas.

“Now let’s see what else you can worship,” Ontari said leadingly, opening her buxom thighs to expose her triangle, her pinkness. Casting another regretful glance at Emori, Murphy swallowed hard—hesitated. How the hell was he supposed to do this with her watching? She was the gift, she should be the one doing it! Or did Ontari think an audience was the present? Some sort of exhibitionist?

While he thought, Ontari watched him, a look of cold fury coming over her face as the hesitation continued. “I guess you need some encouragement, slave!” she told him. “And that’s exactly what you’ll get!”

She grasped him under the arms and pulled him up over her lap. Murphy instinctively protested, realizing what she meant to do, but with his wrists and ankles bound, there was nothing he could do to protect himself.

As she enjoyed feeling his erection press against her lap, Ontari pulled down his pants, laughing as she yanked his underwear down next.

“Hey!” Murphy gasped, wincing as she caught his erection firmly between her thighs.

She brought her hand down on his bare buttocks with a noisy slap, Murphy hissing in breath, jerking against the bonds that held him prisoner.

“Did you think I would buy that ridiculous story about her being a present?” Ontari taunted him, putting her hand to his ass with noisy smacks, each one stinging furiously. “I am the Heda of the Twelve Tribes, I am not gifted, I take what I want!”

Murphy tried his best to hold still and avoid crying out, but with his ass reddening, every smack was made more painful than the last. From a few feet away, Emori watched with mounting excitement. She could feel her own buttocks tingling, knowing that she would have to endure the same masochistic torment soon.

“For fuck’s sake!” Murphy could not hold back as Ontari’s hand left his buttocks burning hot and a deep red. He frantically squirmed about on Ontari’s firm thighs, but her hand continued to descend on his unprotected backside with resounding hits. Still he tossed about in a futile attempt to avoid the painful smacks.

“Are you ready to serve me now?” Ontari finally asked, a note of triumph in her voice.

“Yes! Yeah!” Murphy stammered tearfully. “Sure, whatever!”

Ontari rolled her eyes and spread her legs wide, shoving his trussed-up body down into a kneeling position between them. His ass burning and aching from the thorough spanking he had received, Murphy instantly buried his head between Ontari’s thighs in total masochistic submission. Ontari spread her legs as wide as possible, pressing her hands down on his head as if she’d like to crush his skull.

“You have exactly three minutes to bring me to climax, bitch!” she told him in her sternest voice. “Otherwise I’ll really encourage you!”

Extending his tongue as far as he could, Murphy laved it between the outer folds of her labia. Her juices began to flow, seeping against his sweeping tongue as Emori watched lustfully from the sidelines, finding it more and more exciting to observe his submission.

“Keep going! There! No, no, there!” Ontari issued terse commands to her kneeling slave, rocking her hips back and forth into his face, slowly, then with quick, jerking motions.

His tongue pushed deep inside her folds, Murphy only left his position there to caress her clit with frantic swipes. Thoroughly enjoying his licking as well as the humiliation she was inflicting upon him, Ontari held his face crushed to her wet womanhood as she reached an intense climax. Well before the three-minute countdown had expired.

She pushed him away with a rough shove. “That’s enough for you! Sit on the floor, where you belong!”

Breathless and somewhat in shock from what had just happened, Murphy lowered his throbbing buttocks to the ground, wincing visibly as they made contact. Ontari smiled with satisfaction at the discomfort she knew she’d left him with.

She turned her attention to her female slave. “Now you, Emori. Come!”

With her stockinged legs bound tightly together, Emori still nonchalantly hopped over to the Heda, standing apprehensively before her. The thin line of her lips was set, but occasionally flickered into a grin—though she tried not to think about what might happen to her, some thoughts still sprung to mind…

Ontari pushed her to her knees and ripped her gag away. “Now it’s your turn,” she said, spreading her thighs well apart, domineeringly pointing a forefinger at the shiny wetness Murphy had left behind. “Let’s see if women really are better at this than men.”

“What, don’t I get any ‘encouragement’?”

Ontari fumed. “Are you mocking me?”

“Who would dare mock the great Heda?” Emori asked, her sardonic tone making all of Ontari’s vast anger flare to life.

“Bitch!” Ontari reached down and pulled Emori’s helpless body facedown over her thighs. Murphy’s eyes widened—bound at the wrists and legs, attired only in her garter belt and stockings, her plump white ass quivering in expectation of what was to come, Emori looked crazy sexy.

“Oh, please don’t spank me too hard!” Emori pleaded, her voice still ruthlessly patronizing.

Ontari held her down firmly across her thighs and reached for her sword. With its blade buried in its scabbard, it made for an effective paddle. She brought its solidness down in a noisy smack on Emori’s tender bottom, flattening the two resilient cheeks for a stinging second.

Even Emori had to let out a high-pitched shriek with that paddle bouncing off her soft, well-rounded ass. Ontari smiled ghoulishly at this triumph, and put the paddle to her victim even harder. As the scabbarded sword set her ass ablaze, Emori squealed and swung her stockinged legs back and forth. From his uncomfortable position on the floor, Murphy watched Emori’s spanking with a mixture of sympathy and excitement.

“Yes, Heda! Yes, Heda! That hurts so much, Heda!” Emori moaned, crying softly.

Her ‘begging’ only brought on another volley of crisp, loud smacks. Thoroughly enjoying the sight of Emori’s reddening, squirming buttocks, Ontari spanked her even harder. And as the paddle turned her ass a flaming crimson, the pretty Grounder sobbed hard and begged… for more.

“Oh, please! Please! Don’t stop!” Emori’s distress voice was partially choked by her tears. “Please! I need more! Spank me harder! Show me you’re the Commander!”

Ontari paused, holding the paddle aloft threateningly. “Don’t tell me what to do! I’m tired of spanking you! Now I want you to serve me!”

“Oh.” Emori was clearly distraught. “I guess… I don’t have any choice…”

“That’s right, bitch! No choice at all!” Ontari informed her, opening her thighs and pulling Emori to her cunt.

With a distressed moan, Emori capitulated, lowering her head into Ontari’s bush. Her thighs rubbed together, trying to prompt more stinging from her reddened buttocks, even as she worked her tongue up and down Ontari’s cleft. Having Ontari’s cream bathe her face and force itself into her mouth wasn’t as good as more punishment, but it was enough to make her tremble noticeably.

“You’re going to be dripping with my cum by the time you’re finished!” Ontari promised. “You’re not moving one inch until I’ve come all over that pretty face of yours!”

Moaning with need, Emori haplessly worked her tongue into the folds of Ontari’s pinkness, her excitement rising for every moment she was forced to perform the lesbian act. She eagerly pressed her face to Ontari’s damp pubic hair, working her tongue around with wild abandon. Murphy watched her submissiveness with obvious amazement.

“That’s it! Just like that!” Ontari told her. “There! That’s right!”

Watching Emori’s lapping tongue closely, Ontari undulated her hips, becoming even ore aroused as she heard Emori gulping down her feminine honey. Her clit swelled and Emori concentrated on it, making Ontari first spasm, then climax violently. With Ontari’s hands clasped on her head, Emori made no effort to pull her face away from Ontari’s spasming sex.

“Murphy! Stretch out on your back!” Ontari said, her orgasm spurring her to new creativity. With an almost mournful look, she kicked Emori away from her. “You were sucking on Emori’s cunt when I walked in on you. Now you’re going to do it again. A little show for me.”

The two quickly complied, Emori obediently squatting over Murphy’s head. His chin was quivering as she lowered her pussy against his mouth.

“Use your teeth,” Ontari said. “Like you were trying to gnaw through her!”

Emori winced as Murphy’s teeth flashed between her legs.

“Hurting you?” Ontari chuckled.

“Yes.”

“Then let’s make it hurt even more.”

She put her hands on Emori’s shoulders and bore down with all her weight, until Emori’s pussy was gouged by Murphy’s sharp teeth. Even as he tongued her, she felt like she was being fingered with an animal’s killing claws.

But it wasn’t entirely bad. Like all pain, it was exciting.

“You get off on the pain,” Ontari surmised. “The worse you’re hurt, the more you like it. You’re a freak.”

Emori smiled. The brewing climax at the core of her brutalized cunt was no lie.

“You’re going to come from this, aren’t you, freak?”

Emori nodded that it was true.

“Fuck… you’d come right in his mouth, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, Heda.”

Ontari’s smile widened at the act of contrite submission. “We’ll see,” she purred, taking Emori’s tits in her hands, running her palms over the stiff nipples. She loved the thought that she could twist them, bite them, and it would only make Emori love her more.

“Feels so good!” Emori moaned, and Ontari’s smile nearly broke her cheeks.

“You’re getting excited. Very excited,” Ontari said, reading Emori so accurately it was almost like she was hypnotizing her. “The pressure is building inside you so fast.”

“Yes!” Emori gasped.

Ontari pressed her body to Emori’s, her hardened nipples sparking against Emori’s. “Your heart’s beating a mile a minute. You’ll come if I want you to, won’t you? You’ll do anything I say.”

“Anything,” Emori smirked.

“Then when you come you have to do more than just scream like a wanton slut.” Ontari whispered hotly in Emori’s ear.

“What else?” Emori asked with wild anticipation.

“When you come,” Ontari said, luxuriating in how Emori was completely under her spell, “you’re going to squirt right in his mouth.”

The instant Ontari gave the command, Emori felt her pussy ache with a sudden fullness. It had to be emptied. The urge to be empty was just as strong as the urge to come, the two tied together, halves of the same instinctive urge.

“Squirt, Emori,” Ontari insistently whispered, her fingers stroking Emori’s clit to make the command irresistible. “Your Heda commands it! Obey your Heda!”

Murphy’s tongue slipped upward, touching her clit at the same time as Ontari’s fingers, and it tripped a switch deep inside Emori.

“It’s happening!” Emori squealed. “It’s happening soo hard!”

Ontari moved back to get a good view of what her domination had produced, moaning her approval as Emori’s pussy drenched Murphy’s face with a gulping flood. Murphy thrashed like he might drown under the waterfall.

“I can’t stop coming! Can’t stop squirting!” Emori cried.

When her cunt quit spasming, gushing, it was all too soon.

Ontari tossed her aside, seeing that now Murphy’s face glistened with a sheen of female bliss. She smiled at him.

“How do you like eating her now?” Ontari asked him, his face dripping.

Murphy looked into the cold steel of Ontari’s eyes and knew the answer she wanted. “It’s better,” he choked, the bitter taste of Emori’s cream still in his mouth.

“But you’d like to fuck her even more, wouldn’t you, Flamekeeper?” Ontari asked patiently.

Murphy flinched, but said yes.

“I would too,” Ontari chuckled. “But I’d like it even better if you fucked her in the ass.” A raw edge in her voice surfaced from some gutter within. “I want to see you stick your big cock as far down her ass as it can go. I want to hear her scream that you’re ripping her apart. I want you to fuck her ass until she thinks she’s dying. I want you to come.”

Ontari paused, enjoying the effect she was having on her two slaves. Her obscene words had them both breathless.

“But when you come, you’re not going to do it in Emori’s ass. You’re going to pull out at the last minute,” Ontari continued. “You’re going to come all over her ass. I’ll lick it clean. And she’ll lick you clean.”

“You’ve got a real vivid imagination,” Murphy blurted out. “Say Emori doesn’t want to get fucked in the ass. It’s not exactly something that comes up during your average haggle.”

“Emori?” Ontari asked, turning to her.

Emori wasn’t where she had been. She had gotten up, leaned over a chair, hunched so that her ass was in the air. She reached behind herself and pulled her cheeks apart. Her asshole was totally exposed.

“She doesn’t seem to mind,” Ontari said. “I guess she’s figured out that what the Heda wants, the Heda gets!”

“Fuck me, John! Fuck me right up the ass!” Emori cried over her shoulder. “I want your cock in me so bad!”

Murphy was somewhat surprised by all this. Emori hadn’t seemed the submissive type when he’d known her. Still, his prick didn’t question it. It leapt out in twanging arousal.

“Give the little freak what she wants!” Ontari snapped. “A big cock in her ass, making her come…”

Murphy stumbled forward, seeming to be pulled by the straining need of his erection. Then he was at Emori’s ass. Ontari joined him, guiding his cockhead to Emori’s asshole. When Murphy hesitated, she prodded her finger against his anus. He bucked forward, then winced as the tightness of Emori’s ass grabbed onto his plunging cock.

“More! More!” Emori begged. “More cock in my ass!”

“You heard her, Murphy,” Ontari said, circling her fingers around his anus again. “Or would you rather take it up the—“

Murphy forced himself forward, away from Ontari’s fingers, and Emori cried out whole-heartedly as he sodomized her. Ontari relented, instead slapping him hard on the ass.

“Move it!” she ordered him, craning her hand to spank him again.

Murphy’s hips began to roll, slowly at first. But soon Emori was tugging at his prick with her ass, pulling him into a rhythm whether he liked it or not.

Ontari turned her attention back to the other woman. “Hurt enough for you, freak?” she asked the panting slave.

“Hurts so much! Hurts so good!” Emori wailed. “God, I love it! I hope I die from it!”

“You heard her, John. Fuck your ass like you’re gonna murder her with that cock.”

Murphy had no more questioning in him. His cock was pistoning automatically into Emori’s ass. His strokes were as long as they could get.

“Gonna come!” he gasped, unable to bear any more of Emori’s tightness, her friction.

“Pull out!” Ontari barked, yanking his head back by a fistful of hair in demonstration.

His cock popped free of Emori’s ass and Ontari grabbed hold of it like it was her most prized possession, reclaiming it from Emori’s body. A single jerk and he was creaming all over himself, Emori, Ontari’s hand, everything.

Emori wheeled around and was over him just as oppressively, lapping away the cum as Ontari knelt to do the same for her. Her tongue was all over his cock, his balls, his lap, and Ontari’s was going up her spine, between her cheeks, along her hips, everywhere and anywhere John had blown his load. Neither of them stopped until the seed was all gone. Both smacked their lips in identical victory as Murphy fell to his knees in exhaustion.

“So good,” Emori sighed. “I feel dirtier than I ever have in my life.”

“A fine gift,” Ontari agreed. “I’ll have to think up some new ways to play with her.” She shoved John to the floor with her bootheel, laughing as she went to pull on her clothes. “I’ll welcome any suggestions, John. I think her body only improves the taste of your cum. I wouldn’t even mind finding it the next time I eat her out. Something to think about..”

She strode off, licking her lips, and Murphy could think of several things he’d like to do to her.

“Aren’t you going to untie us?” he demanded.

Ontari smirked. “Surely, the Flamekeeper’s forbidden knowledge covers how to untie a few knots.” She started to close the door behind her. “Oh, and John? For my next present, I’d like a man. And make sure he tastes just as good as the last one.”

John rolled his eyes as the door closed resoundingly, leaving him half-naked, tied up, and in the presence of a woman who was equally half-naked and equally tied up.

Sometimes he wondered what he’d done to deserve all this shit.

Then he said “oh yeah,” like always.

“Mmm-hmmm,” Emori replied, having overheard. “That was good, wasn’t it?”