Sara spent the hours after the battle in her command tent scribbling away at her desk, digging her way through an ever-growing mountain of paperwork. When the Sporaton army had finally withdrawn beyond cannon range, signaling the end of this world's first cannon barrage, she'd had one hell of a logistics situation to deal with.

  Modified inventory forms had been on the top of the list. She'd needed to send out runners to count, inventory, and ensure the safe storage of the muskets that had been distributed. It had been confirmed in triplicate who they had been distributed to, how much ammunition had been consumed, and the fact that they had been properly cleaned before being put under careful watch. The cannons were easy to track, obviously, two tons of gleaming bronze glowing like a beacon, but the muskets? They could go missing very, very easily. She'd handed out every st one she'd had in reserve, which totaled nine hundred and forty-six, and at the end of the day the officers of her army had reported in their various unit's hands a grand total of nine hundred and forty.

  Those six missing muskets had taken as many hours to track down. For all her Blessings granted her skill in rooting out spies, she was ultimately only one woman. The five thousand strong army was simply too rge for her to have cleared everyone. So she'd shut Fort Midwich down hard, not even allowing messengers in or out from Tulian. With magical bags a real possibility, even a child could hide six muskets and a gallon of bck powder on their person.

  Thankfully, that wasn't what happened. The muskets were eventually found, trickling in over the hours. Two had belonged to sentries who hadn't turned them back in to their Sergeants, convinced there would be a nighttime attack that they'd need to respond to, and after Sara had interrogated them, she'd decided they were honest.

  Stupid, trying to sneak away with the single most valuable weapon of her army, but they came to it honestly.

  Three other muskets had been determined to have been detonated by misfires, their wielders not reporting them either because they were in the medical tents getting their bloodied faces tended to, or because they'd been embarrassed to have loaded them wrong, which Sara couldn't much bme them for. Six months may have been a long time for learning drill formations, but the culturally ingrained fear of reporting failure to superiors was a hard thing to shake.

  The final missing musket was the only one that had concerned her. Its owner had finally come forward five hours after the search started, sheepishly telling their Sergeant that they had– unbelievably– dropped it off the wall. That revetion had sent Sara and Evie into a scrabbling rush, gathering up enough escorts to let them safely sneak out through the wall, combing up and down the soldier's entire sector. The possibility of the Sporaton forces recovering was remote, but very, very real.

  With Sara thanking all the gods except that one hidden prick, they'd eventually found it. It was stabbed muzzle-first into the mud, poking straight into the air like a fgpole, halfway through raising a signal screaming "come grab me!" Luckily that hadn't happened, but it seemed Evie had suffered enough stress to shorten her lifespan by months in the meanwhile.

  Sara herself, oddly enough, wasn't as worried. She'd put a lot of effort into hiding the guns, and she thought that she'd done a good job so far, but the battle's aftermath had her mind meandering down paths she hadn't expected it to tread. No concrete decisions had been made yet, but she could feel her old pn wavering, uncertainty growing.

  And it was no wonder that she hadn't been able to organize her thoughts. The battle had dumped in her p an unconscionable wave of problems, a pressure valve that burst violently open when the Sporaton army had finally stopped pressing the assault.

  The list was long. Food, bandages, clean water, surgical supplies, powder containers, ammunition for the cannons, muskets, and rifles, not to mention the contraceptive herbs, because a coed army needed a shitload of those, Sara had learned, as well as repcement weaponry and boots and gloves and uniforms and... so, so much more, really. By the time she was halfway through the list, she'd forgotten the top items, and when she'd reached the bottom, she was pretty sure she'd forgotten her own name. It had been repced by every st need of her army, written in small, precise handwriting, all requiring her approval to acquire.

  Evie had been a godsend in that respect. Sara had never lived a life without a calcutor, and her wonderful girlfriend took pity on her, having tallied the costs of everything with neat tabutions on a separate sheet of paper. Seeing as they were all explictly necessary, Sara had signed off on every purchase, even when Evie had added notes that the prices concerned. The merchant's daughter had a keen sense for bullshit, and she suspected that some of the crafters were taking advantage of the army's pressing concerns, jacking their prices through the roof. Sara hadn't cared, signing off anyway, but she had made a note to bcklist the offending crafters from future government contracts. Price gouging was going to be illegal soon enough, anyway.

  Thanks to Evie's work, the logistics of the army were handled in (comparatively) short order. Then there'd been the second, more depressing element of paperwork.

  Confirming field promotions.

  Of the five hundred dead, a good number had been officers of some capacity or another. None of the Colonels had died, thank the gods, but two Lieutenants had, as well as a considerable number of Sergeants. That the Sergeants had taken such a hard beating made sense, in a roundabout sort of way. Their job was to put on a show in front of their troops, whipping them back into shape, keeping their spines straight as the enemy bore down. The problem with standing tall on the battlefield was just that, however: standing tall. Sergeants were the backbone of a squad, the example everyone else was supposed to look to, and that meant they couldn't flinch, couldn't cower, and couldn't duck.

  They'd done their jobs well, and for their bravery, earned an arrow in the neck. Sara had quietly wondered if she should have equipped the officers of her army with heavier armor than was standard. She'd avoided it at first, on both ideological and practical grounds. Every life was equal in her army, and unless you were one of the Irregurs, that showed in the uniformity of equipment.

  Also, armor was expensive as shit, and there were a lot of Sergeants. Even adding a gorget to their uniform would cost a very, very pretty penny. Looking at the casualty list and the frequency of neck-based wounds, however, Sara was beginning to wonder if it was worth it.

  If it was, it would be a change that couldn't happen any time soon, and so she'd asked Evie to make a note of the idea and moved on. The Lieutenants presiding over the fallen Sergeant's squads had already made their recommendations for promotions, which Evie had thankfully compiled for Sara. She'd briefly read over the list and its reasoning, just to make sure no one was getting a promotion for being "best at screamin', which Sarges do a lot" or something equally inane, which was a less hypothetical concern than she'd expected, before leading an army.

  That done, she'd sent out the order for the prospective Sergeants to be brought to her tent. As they'd arrived, Sara had done the same for them as she had every officer of her army thus far.

  Sara ordered the unfortunate recruits to sit down across from her desk, without having expined a word of why they were being brought to the Governess's command tent, and began asking them questions.

  "How's your day been?"

  "Who's your favorite buddy in your squad?"

  "You ever tasted Southern Mead?"

  "You ever wondered why tides happen?"

  Utterly insane questions. They meant nothing, the answers irrelevant. Even among those who responded well to the game, answering sharply and quickly once their initial bewilderment passed, she couldn't care less about their answers. All she really wanted was for them to talk to her for a while about something they couldn't possibly have prepared an answer for, forcing them to come up with their responses on the spot.

  And she'd watched them. Leading an army, the Blessings of Amarat hadn't come into py as often as she might have wished, but this was one of the exceptions. Before each meeting, she'd taken slow, long breaths, letting the rumble of the army beyond her tent fade away. Then she'd waved the soldier in, locked eyes with them, and began the process.

  She counted their blinks. She counted the frequency of their shifting gaze. She tracked the angle of their head's tilt and how often they licked their lips. She absorbed a torrent of information from their subtle gestures, analyzing, quite literally, their every breath. Miniscule twitches in the shoulders popped to the tune of each spoken sylble, muscles involuntarily twisting beneath the skin in response to the meandering course of hidden thoughts.

  At times like this, she didn't feel quite human. It was the aspect of Amarat's Blessings which strayed the furthest beyond what should've been possible, beyond what she considered within the realm of human ability, even in this altered world. She felt like a machine, some inhuman intelligence processing millions of data points per second, every miniscule flutter of facial expressions tracked, collected, categorized, compared, and filed away for future reference. She couldn't define what, exactly, her mind was doing, but it was a whole damn lot. It felt like she should be overheating, and by the end of the first hour, she was. Evie dabbed her brow with a towel between interviews as she sat sweating in her chair, breathing hard. Her forehead grew hot to the touch, feverish. She soldiered on.

  If people actually knew how much she could learn about them from a few short sentences, most would never talk to her again.

  It took approximately thirty seconds of silent staring for Sara to confirm that a prospective Sergeant wasn't a Sporaton spy, two randomly selected questions to determine if they were a good choice for the promotion, and five or six minutes of pointless bbbing to not seem like an unapproachable, otherworldly alien by doing so. It wouldn't be technically accurate to say she could read minds, but as her Levels continued to progress, the technicality grew more paltry. Maybe not everyone would be put off by her eclectic behavior, mollified by her Champion's status, but she certainly would've been. She kept up the facade.

  Sunrise was a mere handful of hours away when she'd finally squared away the most immediate concerns, which left only the not-quite-as-violently-critical concerns, which she'd have to deal with in the morning. There was only so much she could do without exhausting herself, and she was well past that point.

  And so she fell onto her cot, too exhausted to care about the way the wooden spars beneath the thin canvas jutted against her aching body. There was so much to do, but sleep, thank the gods, had finally risen to first pce on that list.

  "C'mon..." she mumbled, opening her arms up.

  From their folding desk, Evie looked up from her work, saw Sara waiting with arms parted, and sniffed in amusement. "I'll only be a moment, Master."

  "But I'm tired now," Sara whined.

  "Are you incapable of sleeping without me in your arms?"

  "Yes."

  Evie blew air through her nose once more, clearly amused, but the scratch of pen on parchment did not cease.

  Sara was nothing if not committed to the bit. She held her pose, ying bare-chested on her side, holding her arms open as if for a hug, and waited.

  It was several minutes more before Evie finished writing with a small sigh, standing from her stool and stretching. Her sigh turned into a satisfied, groaning whine. As always when they were alone, Evie's hair had been taken down from her customary tightly-woven braids, falling off her shoulders to cascade down to just a few inches above her hips, brown waves that caught the dim ntern light. Sara was always amazed by the sight of her weaving it into pce each morning, dextrous fingers tying it up in a matter of minutes, rather than the hours it would have taken Sara.

  When Evie finally turned around and saw Sara holding her pose, she just barely arrested the starting snort of ughter in time to repce it with a borious eye roll.

  "Don't your arms hurt, Master?"

  "Every time you're not in them."

  This second eye roll was noticeably more genuine.

  Evie moved slowly towards the cot, briefly pulling her hair into a ponytail so it could slide easily into the colr of her warrior's shirt. She reached down to the shirt's hem, crossing her arms as she pulled it up and over her head, baring her chest to Sara.

  It was a sight that had long ago been permanently etched into Sara's mind, yet was no less beautiful for it. Over the months spent in Tulian, Evie's once pale skin had developed a healthy tan, darkest at her hips and shoulders, fading by shades until her chest, which had the stark white line around her breasts where she bound them during practice duels with Sara. Her breasts weren't quite rge enough to fully justify the binding, barely a handful each, and Sara loved them nearly as much as the woman they were attached to.

  In fact, quite a bit had changed about Evie's body since they'd first met. Freed to practice with the rapier as often as she wished, her arms had grown defined, hidden by only the thinnest yer of fat, so that her biceps protruded when she twisted in just the right way. Her stomach was smooth and creamy, yet Sara knew that when she ran her hand along it, she would feel rippling abs beneath. Evie slipped off her breeches as she walked over, baring her wide hips, tapering down into thighs and calves that were presently too rexed to be showing off the work that had been put into them.

  Her build was a practical one, her exercises not selected for dispy, and her natural beauty turned that into something uniquely wonderful. If she'd seen Evie on the streets of Detroit, Sara might have assumed– when she finished drooling– that Evie was a boxer, or maybe training to compete in a triathlon.

  Of course, that was discounting the parts of her that would have garnered considerably more attention. Her tail nguidly swiped from side to side, swooping low in a way that betrayed the exhaustion which wasn't allowed on her face. Her ears twitched side to side, independent of one another, unconsciously tracking the whispers and shuffling of the army camped on the other side of the canvas walls. The sight of them, both Evie's ears and tail, were nearly as hypnotic as the rest of her body. Historical records cimed the fae altered volunteers into Felines as a gift to humanity, and though Sara had suspected from the start that some teenage Champion had been the impetus for that gift, she'd lost the ability to look down on that long-forgotten pervert for it. Clearly, they'd had good taste.

  Now entirely bare, Evie slipped quietly into Sara's arms, silky skin sliding against the rough cot and Sara's soft, welcoming embrace. Her tail, ever the betrayer of her impassive expression, curled possessively around Sara's elbow, while her ears stopped twitching, turning towards Sara's heartbeat beneath her chest, which she nuzzled into.

  They y like that for a time, quiet in one another's arms. It was a peaceful moment, one of the first in what felt like a very long while. It only could've been made better with Hurlish's reassuring warmth at her back, but in the moment, Sara couldn't compin. The second best thing in the world was close enough to the first.

  Sara's eyes began to droop, the quiet rumbling purr of Evie's chest warming her core as the night wore on. Just when her thoughts began to drift towards the half-dreaming state of sleep's imminent arrival, Evie stirred, nuzzling deeper into Sara's chest.

  "Mm?" Sara mumbled.

  "Mm," Evie hummed, as if it were an answer. Sara started a moment ter when she felt something warm and wet press against her chest, running between the valley of her breasts.

  "Ah," Sara said, half an indication of understanding, half a breathy moan. Evie dragged her tongue upward until she was nearing Sara's colrbone, then leisurely pulled away, blinking slowly at her.

  "Colr nagging you?" Sara asked, wrapping her hands around her girlfriend's waist, resting them just before the swell of her butt.

  "No. We satisfied that requirement in the morning, Master. I have hours left until I start to feel the compulsion."

  "Just felt like it, then?"

  "I am certainly feeling something, Master," Evie hummed. She was still purring, an adorably involuntary reaction, the vibration adding a curious note to her words. Her hips shifted so she was straddling Sara's leg, pressing a heat into her knee.

  "We really need to get to sleep," Sara reminded her.

  "Then rest," Evie replied, beginning a slow grind. Sara felt the heat grow wet. "We both know you can stay hard in your sleep."

  Despite herself, Sara felt herself stirring against Evie's stomach, her own warmth rising to slide along the feline's abdomen.

  "I'm tired," Sara tried, even as her knee began to rise up into Evie's grinding, old habits betraying her.

  Evie's ears flicked backward in irritation. "How often do I need to remind you, Master, that I am the only person in all the world whom you cannot lie to?"

  "Hey, I'm not lying. I am tired."

  "And many other things beside." Evie's core began to push down harder on Sara, moving higher up her leg. "But what I am most interested in learning, Master, is are you hard?"

  "You know damn well- ah–"

  Evie had slipped a hand between them, grasping at the erection that was pressed between their stomachs. Even the barest caress of Evie's palm stole her words from her, leaving her breathing heavily.

  "Ah, perfect. You are."

  Evie leaned up, separating their chests and sliding forward, until her hips were straddling Sara's. Her hand never left Sara's cock, wrapped around its midsection, pumping just enough to keep her hips twitching.

  "Rest, Master. After today, I think you need some practice at keeping your cool."

  "And is– shit–" Sara let out a shuddery breath, "jerking me off is supposed to help with that?"

  "Perhaps," Evie hummed, "but I'm not overly concerned if it doesn't."

  Before Sara could ask what that meant, Evie moved farther forward, running the length of Sara's cock along her slit. The sight of it, even through the dim light of their tent, did more to get her heart pounding than any half-hearted handjob. She groaned, hips involuntarily arching up into the pressure.

  Evie's hand suddenly smmed her hips back down, pinning her to the bed. "Now, now, Master. You're tired, remember? Lay back and rest."

  Sara bit her lip, hard, and nodded. Now that her horny mode was in high gear, she was far too distracted to figure out exactly what game Evie was pying, but she could at least figure out that if she wanted to feel that heat wrapping around her, she'd better be on her best behavior.

  Evie slid back and forth a few times, letting out breathless little noises as she turned looked down her own body, seemingly entranced by the sight of Sara's cock. It seemed Evie's tastes were running a little bit more extreme this night, bringing her cock north of ten, maybe eleven inches. It spread her lower lips with each stroke, and as Evie leaned forward, the head of it was thick enough to brush against her clit, prompting a pleasured shiver from the feline.

  "Uh, are you going to, uh–"

  "Hush, Master," Evie breathed, not looking up.

  Sara hushed, the authoritative yet dismissive tone in her girlfriend's voice robbing her of any chance at resistance. Evie barely seemed aware that Sara was even present. She was too focused on her cock, enjoying the way it felt between her legs.

  Sara's hands went to the sides of her cot, gripping the wooden spars in an effort to restrain herself. Evie was taking it so damn slow. She just kept sliding back and forth, the muscles of her stomach rolling in hypnotizing fashion, torturing Sara with the sounds of her satisfied little sighs and the low rumble of a purr humming out from her chest. Her breasts caught the flickering of the nternlight as she moved, painting them in beautiful yellow tones, practically begging to be touched.

  But Sara had been told to "rest," and by fucking god, she was doing her best to do it. She kept her lower lip firmly between her teeth, biting back the whimpers that struggled to fly free every time Evie's pussy neared the head of her cock.

  After what was either several hundred years or a handful of minutes, Evie finally rolled all the way back, sitting on the base of Sara's cock. Her face was flushed, her tail flicking constantly behind her, her ever-twitching ears frozen to point directly at Sara. She'd finally stopped staring at Sara's cock, but only to stare at her breasts instead, drinking them in greedily.

  She reached a hand out, palming the side of Sara's breast, running the pad of her thumb over Sara's nipples. Sara sucked in a sharp breath, worked up enough that the barest touch felt like lightning dancing across her skin. Evie's second hand moved to her other breast, massaging it simirly, and Sara's head involuntarily fell to the side, eyes wrenching closed.

  Gods, where the fuck did she get this kind of patience? Sara mented. They were well past the point where Evie normally would have been begging to have Sara's cock impaling her. On one hand, the slower pace of things was a novelty, more enticing for its unfamiliarity, but on the other, Sara wanted to get her dick wet right fucking now.

  If Evie felt that desire pulsing through her colr, she ignored it. Sara was left ying on the bed in delectable anguish, restrained not by ropes or chains, but by her own desire to do as Evie had asked of her.

  A hand left her breast for a moment, only to crawl up her chest to her colrbone, tracing the lines beneath her skin. It slowly moved upward, until Sara's chin was resting in Evie's palm, a thumb rubbing slow circles across her cheek, like she was some prize dog at the market. She instinctively leaned into the touch, pressing herself against Evie's hand.

  "What a wonderful thing to have for myself," Evie murmured, pulling her hand away. She returned to Sara's breasts, massaging them properly, leaving her writhing under the touch. Sara expected her to say something else, but nothing followed. Evie kept touching Sara, feeling along her body, occasionally rubbing herself along Sara's cock just a little bit at a time.

  Sara thought she was going to go insane. As arrogant as it sounded, she didn't think she'd ever had anyone that had sted so long in her bed just... not fucking her. Not since leaving Earth, at least. She'd done plenty of teasing herself, sure, but deying her own pleasure was a world apart from having her pleasure deyed by her partner.

  I got fucking spoiled, she realized. I've never actually had to sit back and take it.

  Spurred on by the realization, she stubbornly put her all into not grabbing Evie by the hips and taking her then and there, fighting off a base instinct that she'd spent the better part of a year carelessly indulging. She wasn't an animal. She could hold back, if at least for a little bit. Surely Evie would give in eventually, right?

  If so, she was taking her damn time. The feline's hands wandered up and down Sara's body in nguid trails, leaving goosebumps and fire in their wake. Through the thickening fog of her arousal, Sara eventually realized that Evie really wasn't doing this just to tease her. She was taking her time for the simple reason of desire; the desire to feel Sara's body under her, to ensure she had every inch and every pore committed to memory.

  Like a string was cut, the tension that had been building in Sara's body snapped. She fell back onto the cot, going boneless, no longer waiting for Evie's restraint to fail. This wasn't sex. It was Evie straddling her, taking a tour of her body for no reason other than her own enjoyment. Right now, Sara wasn't her girlfriend, or her Master. She was just a warm, beautiful body, the perfect tool for Evie to find satisfaction with.

  As Sara rexed, Evie's roaming intensified. She bent down to press her lips to Sara's neck, breathing deeply in through her nose, then out, sending shivers across Sara's skin. She let out her tongue and pressed it to her colrbone, wide and ft, drawing it up towards her neck, tasting the salt of of a day's work.

  Sara's eyes fluttered as Evie's tongue reached the hollow of her throat, a low, quiet groan slipping unnoticed from her. Evie moved to the other side of her neck, tasting the skin there, and all the while she continued to knead at Sara's breasts, the weight and heat of her core pressing against Sara's cock.

  The world grew darker as Sara's eyes began to lid, giving in to her exhaustion. Evie's gentle hands continued to run up and down her body, feeling at her arms, her chest, her stomach, leaving her skin twitching and jumping wherever she went. Sara's mouth fell open, allowing soft gasps out into the night air, little sighs that rose and fell in time with Evie's roaming.

  Eventually, when Sara thought she was nearing full-on falling into a blissful sleep, Evie sat back, straddling her cock once more. Sara's eyes fluttered open to watch the feline's hands move to her own breasts, twisting and pinching at her nipples as her slow grind began to increase pace, shifting the cot beneath them.

  Sara's breath caught in her chest as Evie's hips finally lifted, her arm reaching down to position Sara appropriately. Even as her lips began to slip over the head of Sara's cock, even as the colr sent phantom jolts of Sara's own pleasure through them both, she barely paid any mind to anything other than Sara's cock.

  Sara... wasn't against it. That surprised her. Something about the catgirl being so absorbed in her own pleasure for once, rather than giving Sara hers, it more than made up for the slower pace. The sight of her taking in everything Sara had on dispy, eyes roaming over her body like she was lording over her own personal domain, more than happy to enjoy herself for no reason other than because she wanted to.

  And it wasn't all waiting. As Evie slipped down onto her, the tent was filled with their groans, the long-deyed bliss washing over them both. As always, the first thing Sara felt was heat. Warm, welcoming heat, almost unbearably hot, followed by a tight embrace that seemed to roll across her body, as if all she was was slowly being swallowed up by Evie.

  Sara's hips bucked slightly, an involuntary reaction she managed to reign in a hair too te, but Evie barely seemed to notice it. Her eyes were gzed over as she slid down Sara's cock, staring at nothing, lost in sensation.

  Slowly, torturously slowly, Evie slid down, until their hips met once more. The weight of a body on top of her, combined with the heat of Evie's core, sent a delirious shudder tingling up Sara's spine, ending at her throat, which let out a pathetic little whimper.

  "I thought... I thought you were supposed to be resting, Master?"

  "I'm trying."

  "Try harder."

  Sara flung her head back into the pillow, wrapping her fingers around the cot's wooden edge. 'Try harder' her ass. This was–

  Whatever she was going to say next was wiped from existence by the shifting of Evie's body, hips rolling forward. Sara felt her cock stir with the motion, Evie's pussy clenching and grinding along the full length of her.

  She fell back harder into the pillow, moaning long and low. Evie steadily shifted her hips back, abs rolling with the motion, and Sara started to see double.

  "Fuck, Evie."

  "Mm."

  Sara was left paralyzed in the cot by Evie's body, every muscle required to move melted to jelly by the jolts running out from her pelvis, bzing fiery trails through her nervous system. Forget turning the tables on this situation; she could barely keep her eyes open.

  Evie began to pick up the pace, stirring Sara's cock within her, head lolling backward, long hair cascading down in waves as she moved. The posture thrust her chest out, leaving it bouncing with each pump of her hips, and it was the sight of that which gave Sara the strength to keep her eyes open. There wasn't anything in the world she'd rather see.

  Evie picked up the pace further, getting her knees beneath her, beginning to lift just a little bit every time she threw her hips back. The additional friction met the already mind-erasing bliss of her grinding, leaving mindless sentences falling from Sara's lips as she tried to cope with the pleasure.

  "Oh my goooods, Evie, please– just– fuck..."

  "Please what, Master?"

  "Just... I-I dunno, just don't..."

  "Don't stop?" Evie asked, still pumping her hips forward and back. "Don't pull off when you cum? Is that it?"

  "Oh, gods," Sara whined. "Please don't get off right when I'm going to cum." The thought hadn't even occurred to her, but the moment Evie brought it up, it was devastating.

  "And, mm, why is that, Master?" Evie asked, her voice finally, finally growing breathless. "We are running low on contraceptives, as you know. Are you hoping the quartermaster will be out, come morning? Praying that you'll get to knock me up, fill me with a child, as you did Hurlish?"

  Sara whined like a sad puppy. "Evvviiiiiee, we don't need another kiiiid."

  "But wouldn't it be nice, Master?" Evie asked, shifting so that her rocking hips allowed her to bend forward, towering over Sara, looking her in the eye for the first time. "Wouldn't you enjoy it? Seeing me swollen with your seed? For all the world to see what you did to me, your so-called consort?"

  Sara felt her cock twitch deep within Evie, pulsing at the base. Traitorous bastard, it was. She tried to bite back down the rising tide.

  "Hot and s-smart are two different–"

  Evie reached down and put a palm to Sara's throat, clenching at the sides of her neck. Sara's eyes widened, blood pounding, a heady dizziness taking her in an instant. She whimpered, wrapping her own hand around Evie's wrist, holding it in pce.

  "What was that, Master?"

  "Mmhghfhg..."

  "I suppose I'll have to find out after you cum in me. What a shame."

  Sara's head swam. Evie was... not this assertive. She'd topped, sure, but never taken the lead, not fully. No matter who was on top or bottom, no matter who initiated things, no matter how little or how much time they had, Evie was always the one giving. Giving her tongue, or her body, finding her pleasure in what she could give to others.

  Sara blinked through the dizziness, watching the catgirl ride her. Her pupils were blown out to saucers, her tail for once not wrapped around some limb of Sara's, but riding high behind her and flicking from side to side, and her ears twitched and jumped at every little sound Sara made. Evie barely seemed to be paying the colr's magic any mind, ignoring what it sent of Sara's sensations in lieu of her own.

  And god damn was the woman finding it. Even as the catgirl kept up the mind-erasing roll of her body, Sara felt her pussy clenching down, taking in every st details of Sara's cock. She seemed to be determined to lock Sara in pce, trapping her in that cot never to leave, and if it would always feel like this, Sara wouldn't ever have spared a moment for protest.

  Gritting her teeth, Sara bit back her own rising climax. Evie may have been able to ignore the sensation of a cock buried in the most wonderful body the world had ever seen, but there was no way she wouldn't be swept along when Sara reached her peak. She'd fight down the sensation. Evie was taking things at her own pace, and Sara could control herself for long enough to let her have this.

  "F-fuck!"

  Or maybe not. Evie chose that moment to begin lifting her hips in earnest, bouncing up and down on Sara's cock, sending her tits bouncing. With her eyes shut and a lip taken between her teeth, she constantly shifted from pulsating grinding to hard riding, the smack of their skin filling the room.

  Sometimes she'd spend several long seconds with her hips joined to Sara's, sliding back and forth, and then she'd immediately begin to bounce again, raising up until just the head of Sara's cock was still inside her before dropping back down, hard.

  Sara knew her girlfriend's body almost better than her own, and so she knew what she was doing. She was constantly grinding Sara's cock against the spot of her innermost wall that made her legs tense with joy, never letting Sara stop touching it for even the briefest of moments.

  And it was clear that Evie knew Sara's body as well as she did hers, because Sara was left in a limp, spyed mess, helpless to do anything but watch. It was like she'd been paralyzed, Evie's touch turning her into a useless puddle of shivers and pleading moans.

  Evie's eyes suddenly flew open, some invisible threshold reached. Sara had only a moment to suck in a breath before Evie leaned forward, braced herself on the cot beside Sara's ribs, and finally began throwing herself into the motion.

  Sara's hands scrabbled uselessly at nothing as Evie took her for all she was worth, throwing herself up and down at a mind-breaking pace, wet sps filling the air. Every downward motion had Sara crying out, every raise sucking in breath, nothing left for her to do but endure, all her existence narrowed down to one thought: Not before Evie.

  As Sara y there, helpless, Evie made eye contact with her again, sweat falling down from her brow to race past her satisfied smile. Her hips never stopping, her hair growing tangled with each bounce, she reached out and took one of Sara's wrists, guiding it up, towards her tail.

  Like a drowning woman seizing a rope, Sara took hold of Evie's tail and pulled.

  Two keening cries filled the tent, repcing the sounds of sex as they froze, buried in one another.

  Sara's world went white as her hips rose, dragging Evie up with her, lightning crackling along her veins. She felt her cock jump once, twice, and then begin to pump, spreading Evie even wider around her base as she began to cum.

  Evie's chest fell forward, her ass thrown back, dragged into pce by Sara's grip on her tail. Her cry was nearly one of religious ecstasy, long and high-pitched, wobbling with the spasms that began to shake her.

  Sara could only watch through watery eyes, too far gone in the feeling of driving her hips up, up, trying to bury herself as deeply as possible in Evie while her cock continued to jump, shooting strings of white as far as she could. Some distant, distant part of her mind prayed that Evie hadn't been all that serious about the contraceptive shortage, because there was no way what was happening right now wouldn't end in a pregnancy.

  A thought that Evie seemed to echo, one hand flying down to feel at her lower stomach, twitching in time with every spurt of Sara's cock. Her other hand stayed locked on Sara's throat, carrying her through her climax with that same beautiful dizziness. White began to leak out from between them, coating their thighs, sliding down to the cot, and still Evie's pussy kept clenching down, trying to squeeze as much from Sara as she could get. Her mouth, meanwhile, was occupied by repeating a mindless mantra.

  "Yes, yes, yes, Master, yes..."

  Sara wasn't much better. She just kept mumbling out "Fuckin' love you, fuckin' perfect," over and over again as her head twisted from side to side, every muscle in her body tauter than a piano wire.

  When Evie finally colpsed down on top of her, Sara thought a millennia could have passed them by. The feline y atop her, a twitch still occasionally wracking them both. Sara wrapped her arms around her, relieved beyond belief to finally feel the warmth of her skin against her entire body, not just their hips. Sara's cock still jumped occasionally, some little bout of energy she didn't know she still had seizing her for yet another spurt.

  When time had passed enough for the two of them to catch their breath, then to subsequently recover their wits, Evie blearily lifted her head, looking at Sara through a tangle jungle of hair.

  "S-sorry..." she mumbled. "Just... wanted to... see if it was mine..."

  "Shh," Sara whispered, stroking the back of her head, tucking Evie's face back down into the crook of her neck. "I know, I know. It is, alright? Always. Always yours."

  "Thank you," Evie whispered, already drifting into sleep.