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Addition Through Subtraction

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Kara took his sight away.

A training tool, she told him, her voice cloying with false sweetness. He had to be able to complete the mission no matter the circumstances, even in pitch black, even if he was blinded. Even if the mission was simply getting Kara off.

Behind the blindfold, John started to sink into his other senses – the warmth of Kara’s bare skin under his hands, the scent of her slick as he nosed up her thigh, the taste of her cunt on his tongue. But as he inched towards intimacy, warmth, Kara’s voice cracked out - snide, mocking.

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Zoe takes away his hearing.

A game, she says, hands gentle as she fits the earplugs and covers them with sound-dampening headphones. You’ll like it twinkles in her eyes, but she doesn’t say another word.

In the silence, John gets to work. He knows what Zoe likes, when to use his fingers, his tongue, just the lightest scrape of teeth. It’s meditative, somehow. Novel. But watching Zoe come apart without being able to hear her panting breath, that throaty moan, leaves John cold.

He doesn’t shiver; Zoe sees anyway, uses heels and hands to pull him close into a kiss.

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Kara tied him down. Kara tied him down and teased him, her voice and nails scraping against his skin until he begged for her to stop, to finish him.

Zoe ties him down. Zoe ties him down and worships him, her hands and mouth warm as she makes her way down his chest to engulf him, to swallow him eagerly.

Kara’s victory was a hard thing, soured by her gloating; John’s orgasm was bare relief and nothing more.

Zoe’s victory is all warmth, a delighted smirk when John comes and comes at her command, then collapses in boneless pleasure afterward.