The door opens soundlessly, though Surge can hear the clacking of heels on the floor as Blaze slips inside. "That was a foolish mistake," the cat says. "People could have gotten hurt." Surge frowns. "Didn't you say I did well?" Misstep aside, which still smarts, but whatever. The Turtleshell Island incident happened months ago— …At least, Surge is pretty sure it was months ago. She thinks so, but her brain feels weirdly foggy, her sense of time and place unsure. "You behaved recklessly," Blaze says. She's directly in front of Surge now, even though Surge didn't hear her move. Her face is hard to focus on, the outline of it blurring in and out of focus. "Foolishly. You acted without thinking, without listening. People could have gotten hurt." "So you've said," Surge bites back. "Look. Is there a point to this, or are you just here to scold me?" "I think," Blaze murmurs, voice dropping to a low rumble, "it's high time I teach you a lesson in obedience."
Surge's ears tilt back, her quills bristling. She tries to hide her discomfort and apprehension with a scoff, but even she hears the way it trembles. "What? What the hell are—" She cuts off abruptly, nearly swallowing her own tongue in surprise when Blaze's hand lands firmly in between her legs. Surge is pretty sure she was wearing pants before, but now the only barrier between Blaze's fingers and her cunt is the thin fabric of her underwear. "You should let people finish talking before you rush off," Blaze says. She drags two fingers up from Surge's perineum, pressing against her clothed hole before moving on to settle just below her clit. Her eyes meet Blaze's, gold and luminous. "Do you understand?" "I-I—" Surge's voice trembles. She swallows thickly, flexing and relaxing her fingers at her side. "I guess." Blaze smiles. "Good."
She moves her fingers upwards those last few millimeters needed to press against Surge's clit. The pleasure is sharp and intense; Surge gasps, back arching off the mattress. Was she always on a bed? She's sure she was sitting up, before, but— "You should listen," Blaze says. She pulls Surge's underwear to the side, hovering her fingers just above her labia. "You should follow the plan. Do you understand?" "Y… ye—es!" Surge's voice cracks into an embarrassing squeak when Blaze's fingers make contact with her clit. It's even more intense without the cloth barrier between them. "I understand." "Good girl." Blaze's eyes burn. She drags her fingers down through Surge's folds, starts to push a single digit inside— And Surge wakes with a gasp, bolting upright. Her heart pounds against her ribs like she just ran halfway across the world. She's hot; her sheets cling to her with sweat, and between her legs— She's soaked, wet beyond belief. Because of a dream about Blaze. What. The. Fuck.
#nsfw of my niche ship #surgaze for #sthfemslashweek26 day 5: dreams
