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“Come on, baby, touch yourself for us.”
Rick’s hand rested uneasily between her thighs. Michonne was watching her. Daryl was watching her. She couldn’t look at either of them, fixing her eyes on the white sheet where Daryl had just finished taking Michonne. Tears of humiliation welled in her eyes. They were looking at her. Daryl, who was so good. She was always so docile, pretty too. She never made a mess of herself like Rick did, never complained or touched things that she wasn’t allowed to. There was a reason that Rick always overheard mutterings of good girl and so pretty for me whenever Daryl had Michonne inside of her.
Rick wasn’t like that. She was too desperate, too much of a brat, too needy for Michonne to ever give her more than she deserved. Michonne, who was powerful and beautiful and knew Rick like the back of her hand, knew exactly what made her gasp and what made her cry like she was now.
“You want to, don’t you, sweetheart?” Daryl’s cheeks were flushed a rosy pink, and Rick caught a glimpse of how wet her scarred thighs were when she shifted her weight to one side. The desperate lie of “I don’t want to, I’m sorry, I won’t do it again,” repeated in Rick’s brain like a broken record, but she knew better than to beg like that out loud. All three of them would know the truth, that she did want to touch herself, desperately, and that the thought of Michonne and Daryl watching excited her almost as badly as it humiliated her.
“Come on, Rick, you wanted it before. We just want to see.” Michonne was resting on one of her hips, and Rick’s eyes locked intently on the crease where her hipbones met her thighs, illuminated by pale stretch marks. Images of Michonne grinding on top of Daryl’s waist, fucking her good and hard and deep, flooded Rick’s mind, and she let out a needy whine. We just want to see, Rick, then I’ll fuck you like that. Michonne hadn’t promised that last part aloud, but it was the only way that Rick could rationalise what she was about to do. Her breath caught in her throat when she started stroking her clit, knowing that Michonne’s tongue would soon be where her fingertips were. God, please, please, fuck me like that.
Attempting to hide as much of herself as she could, Rick locked her thighs tight around her hand and hid her face in her own shoulder. If she closed her eyes tight, she could pretend she was alone, that her lovers weren’t watching her cunt get wetter and wetter before she’d even put her fingers inside. Her efforts were slashed when Michonne took a fistful of curls in her hand and pulled her head gently upwards. Rick felt thin, warm tears staining her cheeks, but the fingers on her clit kept moving as if someone else was controlling them.
“Let us see, baby. You don’t need to cry. You’re so pretty like this.” Michonne’s words were gentle, but she knew they were only humiliating Rick further, exactly as she planned. The sensation of a hand against her thigh made Rick whine and shut her eyes. She couldn’t see a thing, but the hand’s fingers felt thick and worn. She knew Daryl was the one touching her. Please, no.
Rick knew how cruel Daryl could get when she was teasing her. She’d travel her hand up Rick’s thigh to her cunt, but she wouldn’t touch it, not in the way Rick needed. She’d trace the lowest part of her stomach, her inner thighs, the soft skin right above her clit, then, right when Rick was about to start begging, she’d pull away, and Michonne would call her a good girl, because Rick deserved it, and Daryl had done the right thing by making her cry.
Please, please, Daryl, no.
Daryl’s hand slid further up Rick’s leg, but she didn’t pull away. What came next made Rick wish that she had. Rick was being spread open, gently at first, then more urgently once a warm, smaller hand on her other thigh joined the effort. Her knees were pulled up and pushed down again, to the side this time, so that both of the women watching her could see how needily she was stroking her puffy clit.
“God, you’re so wet for us,” Michonne whispered once Rick’s cunt was fully exposed, her voice a hint impressed — like it always was whenever she caught of glimpse of how wet Rick had become.
“So pretty, sweetheart,” she heard Daryl marvel at the sight of her.
Rick dared to slide a finger down past her clit and started teasing her hole, still fearful that someone was going to pull on her wrist, make her stop, then she’d have to open her eyes again and plead and beg and maybe, maybe we’ll let you touch yourself later if you’re good, baby. No one took her hand away. She was free to slide one finger inside of herself, then another, slowly rocking down into them.
She held her breath and stifled a cry so that she could hear the sound of her fingers sliding in and out of her cunt. Michonne was right, she was wet, embarrassingly wet, and a long, harsh groan escaped her mouth. The ghosts of Michonne and Daryl’s hands, strong against her legs, were long gone. She wanted Daryl to kiss her. She needed Michonne to fuck her. Just cum for them. Just cum, and they will. Just cum for them. She craved Daryl and Michonne kissing her thighs, fucking her cunt, holding her down while telling her how wet and useless she was. Her fingers sped up at the thought, then slowed down again when she remembered that she was being punished. She wasn’t supposed to be enjoying this.
Michonne’s skin was against hers again, this time, it was her soft fingers tucking a sweaty curl behind Rick’s ears. Then came her voice, as soft as her hands; all the dominance and teasing that it held when she first instructed Rick to “play with yourself then, since you want to so badly” was gone.
“You can go faster, it’s okay,” Michonne assured her. “You’re being such a good boy for us.”
Rick felt those two words push her impossibly close to the edge, but she held on. Barely. She was really gone now, her vision still black — no longer from humiliation, but from fervour. She sped up. You can go faster. Again. Her ankles — It’s okay — bounced in the air as she — You’re being such a good boy — rocked deep into her fingers, — For us — driving them upwards against her G spot.
“That’s it,” she heard Daryl reassure her.
“That’s better, baby,” Michonne agreed, kissing the temple that she just swept grey curls off of. “You wanted this, see?” Yes, I did, I did, I do, please don’t make me stop, I’ll be good, please. Some of her thoughts were vocalised, but most were lost in between whines and cries. For a desperate, deep few moments, the only sounds were Rick’s whimpers, her heavy breathing, her fingers slipping messily in and out of her hole. If she closed her eyes, she was alone again, until Michonne broke the rhythm with a question.
“You’re gonna be a good boy for us now?” Rick was impossibly close. She’d say anything for Michonne to let her cum, even if it wasn’t true. She just wanted to hear her say it. So she did.
“Yeah, yes,” she exhaled. Please, please, please. I’m good, I’m good, just let me—
“Say it, then. What are you, baby?” Fuck . She should’ve known she wasn’t going to be let off that easily. Agreeing under her breath was one thing, but saying the words aloud while she tried to suppress her orgasm was another.
“I’m— I, I can’t, I’m—“
“Yes, you can. Say it, sweetheart.” Daryl’s fingertips brushed against Rick’s thighs once more as she encouraged her.
“I’m a— God, please, I’m a good boy,” Rick managed to choke out, her voice close to breaking. Her fingers were still pressing against her G spot, losing their rhythm, her body becoming looser the closer to her orgasm that she came.
“Mm-hm, you are,” Daryl nodded. Rick tried once more to close her legs around her hand, but her knees were pushed back out onto the mattress immediately, spread even further this time, it felt like. She groaned in frustration. I said it, I said it for you. I’m a good boy, I’ll be one, I promise, just—
“For who, baby?” The question was unfamiliar, but Michonne asked it like she knew that Rick would answer correctly. Her hips bucked upwards needily as she gasped out an answer.
“For, for you. And… for Daryl. For you.”
Daryl hummed in response, while Michonne smiled at her. The way the two gazed at her confirmed to Rick that she had answered correctly. She was theirs, without a doubt.
“That’s right, baby.” God, come on, come on. Rick knew she couldn’t hold out much longer. She dreaded what would happen to her if she came before she was allowed to. She also dreaded what would happen if she stopped touching herself.
“Can I?” Please, please, let me, let me.
“Yeah, yeah, you can.”
Rick cried loudly as she came, all her humiliation and fear and insecurity released as her voice shook and eventually quietened into a whimper. After catching her breath, she slid her fingers out of her cunt, wiping them messily on her stomach. She rolled over towards Michonne, who kissed her nose and swiped more wet curls off her forehead as she pushed Rick onto her back. Rick exhaled shakily when Daryl pushed her knees up again, not teasingly this time, but determined. She tasted Daryl on Michonne’s lips as she kissed her deep, recalling how pretty the younger woman sounded as the other’s lips teased in between her thighs.
“Good boy.” Michonne kissed her. “You did so good.” Again. “Love you.” The kisses travelled down her neck, her collarbones, skipped over her chest, then were planted on her stomach and thighs, working in and in towards her cunt.
She groaned when Michonne’s tongue started flicking her clit, on the verge of pain from how overstimulated she felt. She couldn’t take any more. But she would. For Michonne, for Daryl, she would.