This Is Wrong But It Feels So Right (Stormwind)

Swiftfoot smirked a little with amusement at how little a time it took, rubbing her soft paws along his length before she leaned down and drew a long lick across it.

Blackstar didn’t respond to the touch verbally, but after a moment the poor tom started to fire hard once more. He continued to lick inside Robinsong as well, seemingly having been broken at the prospect of losing more of his lives and his dignity already mostly gone.

Rising to her paws, Swiftfoot padded closer to the tom’s rear end and eyed his sheath for a moment before starting to rub it with her paw.

Robinsong laughed, using the leash to force Blackstar’s muzzle inside her. “Mmm, Swiftfoot.” The she-cat mewled out, wriggling a little bit as she was penetrated by the Tom’s muzzle and tongue, “Go pleasure him, but don’t let him cum.”

Swiftfoot sat and watched with interest. “Well, he’d have to be after all that time he spent on it when he was an apprentice.”

The tom sighed softly, ears pinned back and blood visible on his muzzle from all the clawings he’d gotten. All the same, he licked away at Robinsong, causing the She-cat to lay back and swoon. “You weren’t lying,” mewled the female, “he is certainly experienced.”

Swiftfoot’s kittybrows shot up in surprise when Blackstar did as he was told to without any protest.

“On that note,” Robinsong purred, wrapping his leash around her forepaw to be able to take closer control of Blackstar’s movements, “I want to be licked.” The she-cat rolled onto her back before Blackstar.

Surprising even himself, the weary Lakeclan tom crouched and began to lick at the Forestclan deputy’s pussy without further guidance.

(*glares at my Chemistry homework, hoping to set it on fire with the force of my glare*)

Swiftfoot huffed with amusement at the tom’s shame, her tail swaying behind her.

Blackstar flattened his ears out of shame, trying to hide the new marks out of utter shame. If he didn’t have his muzzle stuffed full of cobwebs he’d be cursing both of the She-cats.

“So much for your mate,” snickered Robinsong to the tom. “It looks like You’re our bitch now, Blackkit.”

(It’s like they’re piercing his ears for earrings lol)

Swiftfoot did the same to his other ear once Robinsong had finished.

Blackstar growled, trying to snap at The she-cat’s faces, but he couldn’t reach. When he fisbslly stopped squirming so much Robinsong gingerly used two of her sharp teeth to punch a single hole in his right ear, putting it pretty close to the center so that the mark couldn’t be mistaken for a notch earned in battle.

Swiftfoot padded closer, settling herself on Blackstar’s other side.

“You get his other ear,” purred Robinsong quietly, cooing at the tom teasingly as she positioned eraelf with her pelt pressed against his. The black-furred tom cringed at the contact and tried to wriggle away, but couldn’t.

Swiftfoot tilted her head to the side, keeping her yellow gaze fixed on Blackstar’s heterochromatic eyes, watching Robinsong through her peripheral vision.

Blackstar Snarled angrily. “Don’t you dare,” growled the tom before finding his mouth stuffed with cobwebs once more.

Swiftfoot hummed. "Perhaps we should," she agreed lazily, as ever ignoring Blackstar's own opinion. He was the one that was a prisoner, after all.

Robinsong purred, inspecting Blackstar’s ears. “My, it seems he hasn’t ever been marked as someone else’s property. Perhaps we should fix that, Swiftfoot.”

Swiftfoot watched her friend approach the leader, yellow eyes half-lidded lazily.

“Then I guess we’ll try it,” Replied Robinsong with a huff, standing up and padding up to Blackstar, who glared at them, a little more energetic after being reinvigorated by Starclan.

Swiftfoot shrugged. "Short of what you suggested, I can't really think of anything else that might work. I mean, we're in a tree. Our options are limited."

Robinsong opened her muzzle to reply, but was startled by Blackstar gasping back to life beside them, the Tom’s eyes frantic and his breathing heavy and quick, though it gradually slowed.

“Surely there’s something we could use,” Robinsong mewled in reply.

"That's a waste of perfectly good honey," Swiftfoot pointed out. "He's not worth honey."

Robinsong shrugged. “We could try and find out. Or, I can go get a bunch of honey from that log outside camp and use that. Or both.”

Swiftfoot frowned in confusion for a few moments before realizing what Robinsong meant and turned to stare at her friend. "Is that even possible?" She asked incredulously.