Professional Rivals: Part 1
April 6, 2024
A hand grips a sheet in a somewhat sexual way. Off to the side of the image, we can see a bit of the person gripping's hair.
Professional Rivals: Part 3
April 6, 2024
A woman in lingerie holds her handcuffed hands over her torso.

Note to readers: this is part of Tagg After Dark, an erotica collection exclusively for readers 18+.

This is Part 4. If you missed parts one, two, and three, go back and read them first.


Their request sends a bolt of shock through me—we didn’t talk about that—but I can’t say I’m not amenable. Fucking my annoyingly hot tenure rivals could make this weekend more awkward, sure. But, on the other hand, it’s also damn near the only thing that might make it less awkward.

Nika’s way ahead of me, gripping Red’s ass with her free hand. “So you think you’re giving the orders now, huh? Brat. I think that deserves a punishment, don’t you, Maddox?”

She has only ever asked me what I think to tell me why I’m wrong, and rarely uses my first name, so I’m a little startled. I recover from it nicely, though. “If you want to use the tawse so bad, you can just ask.” Nika narrows her eyes at me, and that sweet smirk tugs at the corner of her mouth again. 

“Red, she’s right, that was piss-poor behavior. I think you only deserve to get fucked while Nika’s beating that bad attitude out of you. What do you think?” I ask Red, but my eyes are on Nika, who winks. My pulse pounds in my clit. We’ll have to have a chat later. About Whipped.

Red is nodding before I finish the check-in. “Yes,” they breathe, “please, yes.”

Nika and I trade places; she stands facing us, and I take her seat. Red gingerly drapes their warm, soft body over my lap, mindful of my legs. I squeeze the back of their neck gently, chiding them. “Relax, handsome. You’re not gonna break me.” They melt, puddling onto me and the bed with a soft groan. 

My hands play over their waistband as Nika retrieves some lube from a drawer on the nightstand. “Can I take these off?”

Yes, Jesus, you fuck like you write, Maddox, can you please just get to the goddamn point and get your fingers in my cunt al-”

I remove my hand from their ass and nod to Nika, who tosses the lube bottle onto the bed and grins. It lights her face up; the way her wrist straightens as she winds up sets my pulse racing.

The impact of the tawse on Red’s ass drives them forward a little, and as they cry out, their hands fist into the pillowy white comforter.

“Oh, I love how this swings,” Nika murmurs, ignoring Red’s gasped pleas (“yes, please, fuck me, Maddox”) as I shuffle down their briefs to their knees.

I tease a hand between Red’s spread thighs, reaching under their body to tease their clit. Their soft, wet, warm flesh slips so easily under my fingertips, and I content myself with teasing for a few long moments despite Red’s obvious impatience. 

I pause to lube my fingers, and Red curses at me, earning a pair of firm strikes from Nika. I laugh at them as I coax a finger inside them.

We work them up slowly. Nika’s blows and my hand match rhythms with each other, and with Red’s panting and guttural little moans. I stroke their clit with my thumb as I fuck them—gently at first, but firmer and more insistent with every blow of the tawse. Their hips grind into my fingers, into the sensation of Nika’s strikes. Before long, they’re dripping down my hand, and the ghosts of the tawse’s tongues are imprinted in pink across Red’s backside.

“Look at that,” I murmur in their ear, pulling their hair a little as my other hand teases their entrance. “I wonder if you’ll mark tonight, Red. Don’t you have that panel discussion tomorrow? I wonder if you’ll be sitting there in front of all those nice people with our bruises on your ass.” I slip another finger inside of them to emphasize my point, stroking their clit with my thumb. They gasp and buck into my touch. I can feel the walls of them tighten around my fingers with my words, and with every impact Nika sees fit to gift them.

She takes that moment to unleash another pair of blows onto Red’s warming cheeks. Her strikes are confident, her aim is keen, and I catch myself staring at her as she spanks Red again, aiming her impact evenly across their ass.

“You’re very good at that,” I tell her, and suddenly, I’m the one with a hoarse throat.

“Aw, you noticed.” She bats her eyelashes at me in a parody of bashful flirtation, tracing the edge of the tawse along the inside of Red’s thighs.

“Get— a fucking— room,” Red gasps between thrusts of my fingers and blows from the tawse. There’s an edge to it that almost sounds like a giggle.

“Shut up,” I hiss, and press their face into the bed by the back of the neck. They dissolve into muffled moans and cries. “Filthy little butch. Trying to play tough guy, like I don’t feel you pulse around me whenever she hits you.” 

The noise they make is so delicious, even muffled by that absurdly fluffy hotel comforter. It’s loud and long and urgent with need.

When I look up, Nika’s leaning over me, eyes heavy-lidded and lips half-parted. I ache, in that moment, for my harness.

“If you keep saying things like that,” she warns me, “you’re going to have another mess to clean up.”

I kiss her, curling my fingers inside of Red as I do. Nika tastes like the fruit-flavored gum she chews constantly, and the liquid velvet of her lipstick smears on my face as we kiss. For one fevered moment, I wonder is that what her other set of lips would feel like on my face? I curl my fingers inside Red again, urgently, desperately, craving their cries and the sweet twitching of their clit under my thumb as much as I crave Nika’s taste.

Red cries out, pulsing around my fingers as Nika bites my lower lip and tugs with her teeth. They shudder, and I stroke them through their orgasm, chasing every bit of their pleasure as Nika chases my tongue.

When Red collapses onto my lap and presses their thighs together, an exhausted laugh tumbles out of them. I withdraw my hand from them and lean back, staring up at Nika. She’s breathing heavily and eyeing me like she wants to eat me whole. 

“Where’s that fucking thigh strap?” she pants.

I don’t think any of us will be making that networking breakfast in the morning.



Thank you for reading “Professional Rivals,” the first story in our Tagg After Dark collection! Sign up for our weekly newsletter to be notified when the next story drops. 




Devon Illman
Devon Illman
Devon Illman (she/hyr) writes lesbian erotica that celebrates consent, kink, and the infinite possibilities of erotic expression. Hyr work often explores butch4butch and butch4femme dynamics, disability in sex and kink, and the many ways survivors navigate desire.