03-02-2017, 04:56 AM
Once again, Disastardly had awoken to a whole new world. This time, in the aftermath of shared passion with Dovev and Zoryn, the world in question was one she wasn’t entirely certain she liked. A world in which she was a mother-to-be. It had taken a while for her to realize it; she was hardly close with her own train wreck of a mother, and she’d escaped her last encounter with her boys unscathed. Reproductively anyhow. Deliciously, gloriously scathed in body, just not knocked the fuck up.
Shitty timing, apparently. She hadn’t been so lucky this time. And Zor, he was even more wrecked than she was, if that was possible. Her sweet, vicious teddy bear was pretty damn hung up on his Dov, but Diz was happy to play with whatever toy presented itself. Her boys were exquisite, pleasure wrapped in pain, wrapped up again in such delightful packaging, but if Dov wanted to go knock up his mom and get all wrapped up in somebody else, well, it made no particular nevermind to her. She still had her Zor.
Ugh, and whatever whelp the three of them had managed to produce, but that was really more of a burden than a blessing. It was already starting to round out her belly, starting to change her in ways she did not appreciate a damn bit. And not just physically, either.
For example.
Diz wasn’t, as a general rule, one to give a shit about people’s feelings. Not too terribly long ago, if she’d stumbled across Dov looking like such a ragged pile of skin and bones and old blood, her first instinct would have been to poke and prod and piss him off, kick him while he was down and see if there was enough fight in him to kick back. Trade a few blows, tear each other up a little bit, fuck, and consider it a job well done.
Now?
She stopped next to him, tilting her head to look him over dispassionately. “Damn, Dov, you look like shit.” Okay, so the poking part still held true. Her next words surprised her, though. “I know it’s not exactly our style, but do you...want to talk about it?” And she didn’t even sound disgusted or put out by the idea. What the hell was that about? Fucking weird.
Shitty timing, apparently. She hadn’t been so lucky this time. And Zor, he was even more wrecked than she was, if that was possible. Her sweet, vicious teddy bear was pretty damn hung up on his Dov, but Diz was happy to play with whatever toy presented itself. Her boys were exquisite, pleasure wrapped in pain, wrapped up again in such delightful packaging, but if Dov wanted to go knock up his mom and get all wrapped up in somebody else, well, it made no particular nevermind to her. She still had her Zor.
Ugh, and whatever whelp the three of them had managed to produce, but that was really more of a burden than a blessing. It was already starting to round out her belly, starting to change her in ways she did not appreciate a damn bit. And not just physically, either.
For example.
Diz wasn’t, as a general rule, one to give a shit about people’s feelings. Not too terribly long ago, if she’d stumbled across Dov looking like such a ragged pile of skin and bones and old blood, her first instinct would have been to poke and prod and piss him off, kick him while he was down and see if there was enough fight in him to kick back. Trade a few blows, tear each other up a little bit, fuck, and consider it a job well done.
Now?
She stopped next to him, tilting her head to look him over dispassionately. “Damn, Dov, you look like shit.” Okay, so the poking part still held true. Her next words surprised her, though. “I know it’s not exactly our style, but do you...want to talk about it?” And she didn’t even sound disgusted or put out by the idea. What the hell was that about? Fucking weird.