The Pet

The fire caught and Octavia luxuriated in its warmth, allowing herself to enjoy a respite from the chill of this particularly cold night. The tents in the village were much better warmed than this grotto, but Lexa had ordered her here and she had to obey her Heda. What was to happen here tonight needed to be far away from the rest of the Grounders. 

Even if Octavia was naked, save for the collar she wore—the fire her only protection against the nightly freeze. She added more and more logs to it, knowing Lexa would be joining her shortly. The Heda would need to be warm too. She wouldn’t be wearing much either.

Nor would Clarke, Octavia thought with a hint of irritation. Lexa had told Octavia everything. How dominant Clarke was, how she topped Lexa, how she had all but made the Commander her bitch. Octavia fumed over it, but it still turned her on to imagine Clarke working Lexa over with that tentpole strap-on of hers. It turned Clarke on too. She was pushing and pushing for Lexa to let herself be cocked, but the Heda couldn’t submit that way.

Octavia, on the other hand, could—for a price.

Octavia covered her bare sex with her hand, lazily rubbing her pussy as she drank in the warmth of the fire. She’d obey Lexa in anything, but the Commander wouldn’t ask her to do something like that. Not unless Octavia wanted it. So they’d made a bargain to assuage Lexa’s guilt. Octavia would get something out of it and Lexa would get something out of it. And so would precious little Clarke. Who got Lexa all to herself. Who got accepted into the Trikru like it was nothing. Who even had Bellamy wrapped around her little finger. If only her brother knew what the three women were to do here before the fire died…

She heard Clarke coming. Clunking along in her big, brassy shoes like no one was listening in the whole world. Lexa was beside her too, not that Octavia could hear her—not until Lexa spoke up.

“We’re here,” she said. 

Octavia turned to look. She saw Clarke’s blonde hair gleaming in the firelight, but Lexa didn’t appear for a long moment—until she melted out of the shadows, eyes first, then the glistening blacker-than-black of her facepaint, and finally the rest of her tanned skin and leather armor.

“Octavia,” Clarke gasped in surprise, seeing the brunette kneeling there, nude, the fire burning the cold out of her bones. But the heat of Clarke’s gaze was even warmer. “What’s she doing here?”

“Serving her Heda. Serving you,” Lexa answered. She took Clarke’s hand, rubbing the leather of her fingerless gloves into Clarke’s soft palm. “I can’t give you what you want, Clarke. My people already think I’m too close to you—too easy on you. I can’t… shame myself as well.”

“Then don’t,” Clarke said. “It’s just a—game. We don’t have to do it. You never have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with…”

“That’s just it, Clarke. I don’t. But others can.” Lexa glanced at Octavia, drawing Clarke’s eyes back to the carefully lotioned skin, the pristine make-up, the perfumed hair—all Octavia had done to make herself worthy of Heda and Wanheda. “Our pet, Clarke. One who will serve you in any way you want—in exchange for the privilege of worshipping my body.”

Octavia flushed pink, sweat breaking out over her body despite the cold. Lexa had explained everything, what her position would entail, how challenging this would be for all of them. Clarke not getting what she wanted. Lexa forced to share her lover. Octavia being dominated, penetrated, sodomized. Octavia expected it to be one more hardship to endure—worth it if she got the chance to serve Lexa as Clarke had been able to. But now she found herself unblinking, breathless, wishing something would happen instead of them looking at her.

“Do you want her, Clarke?” Lexa asked. “Please, Clarke, say you want her. I want you to have whatever you want. This is the best I can offer you, the best I can possibly—” 

“I want her,” Clarke interrupted, grinning widely as her eyes trekked over Octavia one last time. “I want both of you…” She eyed Lexa too, biting her lip. “When does she get to worship your body, exactly?”

Sharing a smile with her, Lexa reached to the top of Clarke’s zipper and undid her vest. As the clinging material blossomed open, revealing the thin tanktop underneath, Lexa pulled that down too, and Clarke’s breasts lunged out to Lexa’s waiting lips. The Commander kissed hungrily every inch of Clarke’s ample cleavage, finding the lovely nipples and sucking them to their fullest mass. Lexa’s body shook with excitement. Clarke had always had a wonderful set of tits, but now that she was enjoying the robust diet of Grounder crops and cattle meat, her bust was full and ripe as anyone could ask for. Lexa kissed and sucked them as they deserved, while feeling Clark’s hands move through her hair and caress her back with matching passion.

“It’s the expedient choice,” Lexa moaned as she worked Clarke out of her clothing and Clarke divested her of her own. “Octavia wants this. And I want her. But—I want to see you fuck her more.”

Clarke smiled at her. “You don’t have to sell me on it, Lexa. I’ve wanted to fuck her ass for a while, but not if it meant being unfaithful to you. Now… I can’t wait to see her fuck you.”

Lexa frowned seriously. “She won’t fuck me. She’ll service me. She’s not my mate, she’s my pet.”

Clarke restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Trikru mating rituals… “Of course, dear.”

When her pants came away, it revealed a fat, black dildo strapped around her waist like a coiled snake. Octavia stared at it, felt her own pussy all wet and slippery and boiling hot. She consoled herself by thinking that she wasn’t getting turned on by Clarke. ‘Wanheda’ probably couldn’t even dominate her. Not like Lexa. It would be an honor to submit to her.

She started to get up. “You heard her, Clarke. Make me your pet—“

Lexa pushed her back down firmly. “You are her pet,” she said, equally hard. “Isn’t she, Clarke?”

Clarke’s hands joined Lexa’s in roving down Octavia’s body, between her legs, over her thighs, every touch feeling wonderfully, cajoling and pressuring and tempting. “She certainly likes being petted…”

But Octavia shook her head and tried to ignore the blonde. “I’m glad I please you so much, Heda.”

Clarke smiled at the disrespectful little slight. “When my cock is in your ass and you’re screaming out every orgasm, your Heda is going to be jealous of you.”

She struck Lexa’s ass with a hearty slap and Lexa leaned over to her to claim her mouth in a kiss. Their warm bellies and soft breasts pressed together, almost on top of Octavia as she watched their tongues collide. The grotto’s fire seemed hotter now, claustrophobic, closing in to the boundary of the firelight like the darkness outside was solid. Octavia could barely stand it. Her pussy was getting hotter and hotter too.

“You’ll be jealous of how much I make your Heda come!” Octavia retorted, disregarding the small voice in her head warning her of being so disrespectful after she’d consented to being their pet. It was understandable, though. There’d been no animals on the Ark. She had no idea what happened to pets when they were bad.

With another shared smile, Clarke and Lexa kissed her, each other, her, her, her, their lips merging and caressing, tongues drawn together, teeth clicking at swollen lips and massaging tongues, until Octavia was trying to kiss both of them at the same time—both their tongues entering her mouth, trapping her own between them, caressing each other inside her occupied territory. Clarke ran her hand down Octavia’s cheek, collecting the drool that was dribbling down her chin, and moved it down to lubricate her strap-on while her other hand tested Lexa’s tits—finding the nipples as swollen as her own. 

Their bodies were warm silk against Octavia’s, skin foaming seawater over supple flesh and firm muscle, everything Octavia dreamed of touching. She found herself submitting as they wrestled with her, teasingly pulling at the collar around her neck, and that made her fume. “I’m not—“ she said. “You can’t!” 

They brought her down onto her stomach, held down by Clarke’s weight. “Get her ready for me, baby,” Clarke said.

Octavia gasped as she felt Lexa’s forefinger inside her, feeling her lust, then it came out all wet and pushed into her anus, Octavia’s whole body cringing as Lexa loosened her up.

“My—my Heda,” she moaned, whimpering, telling herself that it didn’t feel good, then that Lexa’s firm, strong motion did feel good, but only because it was Lexa, Lexa’s finger, Lexa’s dominance.

“I think she does like being a pet,” Clarke observed, amused. “Now she just needs to learn she’s my pet.”

Octavia looked up at her fiercely. “You are not my Heda!”

Clarke looked malevolently down at her, no more niceness, no more friendliness, and Octavia knew what Lexa saw in her. Someone as strong and as fierce as the Commander herself. “It doesn’t take a Heda to break you, little Skaikru bitch. It only takes a big cock. Hell, I think that finger in your ass is doing the job just fine.”

Octavia found herself squirming and twisting around, trying to get more of the slippery friction of Lexa’s finger as her asshole relaxed and loosened. “I would do anything for my Heda,” she hissed.

“Is that why you’re almost coming? Because Lexa wants it? Because I don’t think she cares what you want. She just wants me to have a nice, warm hole to fuck. Isn’t that right, Heda?”

Lexa cut a look at Clarke; as sometimes happened, she found herself almost intimidated by the depths of Clarke’s command. As reluctant as Clarke could be to exercise power, she simply refused to submit. “You’ll like it, Octavia. I’ve thought about it and… I would like it. If I could let her do it to me.”

Octavia’s body was out of control—working to please these women when she was still adamant about not submitting to them… giving them what they wanted, but only in exchange for what she wanted, not because she enjoyed it. But that was her mind. Her body wouldn’t hold still. It squirmed on the damp, slippery cave floor, grinding pleasure out of her breasts hotly touching the ground and her wet cunt writhing madly against the rock. 

“She’ll like it more if I’m lubed up.” Clarke knelt at Octavia’s head, offering the strap-on to her mouth. “Here. Suck it. Get it ready to destroy your own ass.”

Octavia looked at the dildo as if it were an insult personally directed at her.

“Do as she says,” Lexa told her, kneeling on Octavia’s lower back to hold her down, to help her play her cunt against the ground. 

“You heard her,” Clarke continued. “Suck me. Or do you want Lexa to do it for you?”

Octavia would not, under any circumstances, allow Lexa to degrade herself. She opened her mouth, more to speak than to obey, but Clarke forced the strap-on between her lips and held her head down on it. She was having the time of her life: getting throated by Octavia, reaching out to play with Lexa’s beautiful breasts… Lexa even reached out to caress Octavia’s hair so they were playing with her together. 

Clarke took her other hand off Octavia’s head and Lexa arched her chest forward, pushing her breasts out into both of Clarke’s eager hands as she held Octavia’s head for her lover, her Wanheda, working Octavia’s mouth up and down Clarke’s prick. She couldn’t, wouldn’t suck it herself, but it was a tool of Clarke’s, almost a part of her, and she would make sure Octavia gave it the respect Clarke was due. 

“Finger her ass some more,” Clarke said to Lexa, her voice coy enough for it to come off as a suggestion as much as a command. Lexa did as that firm voice told her to, adding another finger into Octavia’s well-stretched ass.

She had a beautiful ass. Nice, round buttocks, firm as polished stone but with the give of ripe fruit, and smooth as satin. Lexa imagined Octavia’s ass in black lace panties, like Clarke wore for her sometimes. This was only a one-time thing; she did not want to share Clarke, but hoard her attention, collect it greedily as hers and only hers when everything else she had to give to her people. But if it were to happen again—one of those impossible things that seemed to amass around the Sky People—Lexa would’ve liked for them both to wear black lace…

She drew her fingers out of Octavia’s still very tight anus and spoke to Clarke in the same serious tone Clarke had used on her, though they’d spoken to each other that way often enough that it was little more than a game now. “Come on, Clarke. You’ve let her be willful for long enough. Time to break our pet in before she develops a bad habit.”

Clarke smiled down at Octavia and said “You don’t deserve my cock” as nicely as if she were spitting on her. She yanked the dildo out of Octavia’s splayed mouth. 

Relieved of that suffocation, Octavia still couldn’t breathe, spitting out the collection of saliva in her mouth and the acrid taste of the strap-on. By the time she caught her breath, Lexa and Clarke had worked her up onto her hands and knees. Clarke knelt behind her. She pressed the dildo into Octavia’s asshole, still hotly tingling from Lexa’s fingers. 

“No,” Octavia moaned, thinking it couldn’t go there, it had to go down in her cunt, where she was so hot, so wet, not in her ass, which had struggled to take Lexa’s joined fingers—certainly couldn’t take the mass that had nearly sprained Octavia’s jaw. 

“Quiet, doggie,” Lexa said, grasping Octavia firmly by the hair. She’d taken Clarke’s place at Octavia’s head, and between them they held Octavia in place like a torture rack. “No barking.”

Octavia felt the knob of Clarke’s strap-on pushed into the tight ring of her sphincter, defying its pressure bit by bit. She almost squealed, but managed to muffle herself in obedience to Lexa as her anus gave away—Clarke’s prick sliding inside her, violating her, taking the last sacrifice she had to give to Trikru. She wasn’t a virgin anymore, not anywhere, and it was all for Lexa.

Then Clarke fucked her, fucked her hard, held onto her hips to make sure she didn’t miss an inch of her thrusting cock. The feeling of discomfort intensified into pain, but it brought with it delight that rapidly grew, almost uncomfortably swelled into desire and passion. Lexa took her hands and Octavia held onto them tightly—all she could do—as the feelings grew, shame and humiliation and embarrassment at her own arousal keeping pace with the sensations of Clarke’s soft thighs pumping against her naked ass, the leather of her straps coolly burning into Octavia’s bare flesh, and her cock going deep into Octavia’s asshole.

Lexa was driven wild by the sight of her lover fucking Octavia, treating her as the bitch she so desperately wanted Lexa to be and that Lexa was so strongly tempted to become. Looking over Octavia’s bare back, she could see every pistoning thrust Clarke’s dildo made between Octavia’s cheeks, and each stroke Lexa wanted for herself. Her body was screaming for it—her asshole tight, her cunt wet, her flesh all stirring with the emptiness where Octavia was filled. 

“Keep fucking her,” Lexa said to Clarke as she sat back on her ass, spreading her legs, opening them wide. “You’re making her a happy bitch. You’re making her so glad to be our pet.”

Octavia moaned, mortified and ecstatic with the sensations overcoming her, giving in, nothing to draw upon but surrender. The pain was immense, but not enough to outdo the pleasure—the satisfaction of serving Lexa, serving Clarke.

“And you’re being a good doggy,” Lexa continued, scooting forward on her muscular ass until she was close enough for the scent of her pussy to stir even Octavia’s numbed senses. “You get rewarded for being a good doggy. You get to worship your Heda. You get to show her how much you appreciate being my bitch.”

Octavia didn’t know what was happening to her. The feeling of being fucked in the ass—having Clarke hilted in her bowels—every thrust stretching her taut asshole anew—it had mounted and mounted until it was beyond pain, beyond pleasure, nothing but those hard, stabbing thrusts and the feeling of submission they brought. Body and mind, she was suborned to Clarke… only existing to be her fuckhole. Clarke was going to fuck her forever and so it was right, it was natural, for Octavia to be wide open, a deep sheath for Clarke’s cock to be held in.

But her submission ran even deeper than that. Clarke could master her body all she wanted, but Octavia was Lexa’s, mind and soul. She obeyed despite the white noise of feeling that pervaded her consciousness, kissing everything of Lexa’s pussy, all that Lexa offered her, everywhere that she could reach as Lexa’s hands held her face in the Commander’s lap.

It was clumsy work since Clarke was buffeting her from behind. Lexa’s pussy was hot enough and sweet enough to be as thrilling as the feel of Clarke’s sodomy, but as tightly as Octavia held to Lexa’s thighs and as desperately as she lapped where Lexa forced her tongue to, she could only get a fleeting taste of her reward. Lexa’s cunt slid and brushed against Octavia’s equally wet lips as the lovers at either end of Octavia writhed and rutted into her, both seeking satisfaction from their chosen submissive. Lexa reached down to rub her own clit and her knuckles knocked Octavia’s tongue aside as she fumbled about, trying to pleasure Lexa herself. 

“Lick my cunt! Taste your Heda! Only Clarke’s had this! Don’t you want what Clarke has?” Lexa shouted, even as her masturbations kept Octavia from properly worshipping her.

Octavia would’ve tried even harder—would’ve died from strain trying to please her Commander—but in all the rocking and grinding, Clarke’s prick slipped out of Octavia’s asshole. The next thrust came thrillingly close to going into Octavia’s cunt, where she had thought she wanted to be fucked, but now she thought she needed it back in her ass even more. If only they both were fucking her, the two of them taking both her holes at once. She didn’t care if that’d mean submitting to both Clarke and Lexa. She hadn’t known before how good it would feel to be their pet doggy.

Clarke didn’t hesitate. She acted where Lexa and Octavia were both lost. Adjusting her grip slightly on Octavia’s waist, she thrust her into Lexa’s sitting body, knocking Lexa onto her back and then forcing Octavia down on top of her. She mounted Octavia and sodomized her again, Octavia crying out as the pain renewed itself, then going cross-eyed as orgiastic pleasure followed with it.

Each thrust Clarke made into Octavia’s bowels pumped her body against Lexa below her, between Lexa’s spread thighs, pressing their cunts together. Lexa gasped as she felt them rub together where they were most intimate, and with Clarke’s phallic thrusts as well, so they were both taking pleasure from Clarke’s fucking. Clarke even looked Lexa in the eye as she did it, smirking smugly as she watched rapture bloom across Lexa’s face. Octavia was less than their pet now: she was a tool, totally subservient to Clarke, being used by her not only for her own satisfaction, but for Lexa’s.

“I’m fucking you, Lexa,” Clarke hissed, groaning herself with each lustful stroke she made into Octavia’s pained asshole. Her own arousal was skyrocketing, the feel of the dildo’s base caressing her cunt as good as Lexa’s tongue had ever been. “I’m fucking the Commander! Wanheda is goddamned fucking you!” She roared in triumph as her orgasm flared.

Octavia whimpered, keened, feeling the sparks of her own climax, not just in Clarke destroying her ass, but in the supple massage of her pussy rubbing against Lexa’s. She felt Lexa’s arms around her, accepting her, approving her worship, and her desire followed Clarke’s—even that part of her submitting.

Lexa hugged Octavia tightly, knowing almost mystically that Octavia was close, and that she would share in her ecstasy, share in her submission, while remaining mistress—remaining Heda. “Come, my pet. Come for your Heda. Come for both your mistresses. Come like a good doggy bitch!”

Octavia climaxed, so tightly, so explosive, that it flowed into Lexa and Clarke too. A contact high, an act of worship, a desperate service provided by a dutiful pet.

Octavia had thought she would hate being dominated. But she could feel her own wetness between her legs, Clarke’s against her ass, Lexa’s still dripping from her face. She looked from one mistress to the other, desperate to continue serving them. It could’ve hurt a thousand times worse than it had and she would still gladly be their dog.

Clarke recognized the look. As did Lexa. When Clarke looked at Lexa, the Commander recognized that look too.

“What do you think, Lexa? Can we keep her?” Clarke asked. 

“Yes,” Lexa said, petting Octavia’s hair. “She’s a good dog.”