Crimson Clockwork Pt. 03/03

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A risky tryst. A daring rescue. A celebratory foursome.
11.8k words
4.72
1.2k
3

Part 3 of the 3 part series

Updated 03/12/2024
Created 02/28/2024
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Author's Note: This installment is a bit shorter than the second chapter, and will conclude the mystery, while also including a fair share of character development, a bit of worldbuilding, with plenty of group sex and debauchery. I hope you enjoy!

**

After our excursion at the theater, I'd planned on returning to the workshop for another quick tryst with my lovers before heading home for the evening. Those plans shifted, however, as a new opportunity arose.

When we stepped into the gondola car that would whisk us across the city, nobody else boarded along with us. Everyone else at the transit tower had instead been waiting for other lines. Only a few drunken students were already aboard and they disembarked at the very next step.

That left the three of us alone in the passenger car. The moonlight and the alchemical candles sparkled in Cymkor's blue eyes as he looked at his friend.

"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Cymkor asked, his voice low and hungry.

"How long until the next stop?" replied Istvan.

My eyes widened at the question. Gods' graves, what had they awakened in me? While I'd certainly been no prude prior to meeting them, those men had ignited a storm within me that I hadn't thought possible. The wild way they'd used me in the workshop, the shadow-shrouded fuck back in the theater, and now a tryst aboard a gondola?

"At this hour? Perhaps fifteen minutes."

"I think we can manage," he said, his smirk shifting to a hungry grin. "Do you still have that toy with you?"

Indeed I did, given that I'd been hoping for a chance to use it ever since our investigation had started. After another furtive glance around the empty gondola, I pulled the slender metallic dildo from my purse. Runic buttons adorned one side, and it had an additional prong that would rest against my clit if the toy was inside me. A little shiver went through me as I recalled the deep, aching orgasms the device could unleash if deployed properly.

Cymkor snatched it from my grasp.

"Best be quick about it," he said with a nod at his friend.

I squeaked with surprise and delight as Istvan grabbed me by the hips. Spinning me about, he shoved me against the gondola's window. My hands braced against the glass, my eyes taking in the glittering view of the night-shrouded cityscape.

As Istvan tore off his belt, Cymkor lifted my dress, slid my panties down my legs, and brushed the gleaming toy over my folds. Though he hadn't even turned it on yet, that simple teasing touch drew forth a soft sigh.

If the gods still lived, I'd have offered a prayer of thanks for putting those open-minded men in my path.

Those two once more demonstrated how deliciously well-coordinated they were. The very moment that Istvan sank his shaft into me, Cymkor flicked on the toy. The wondrous vibration thrummed directly against my clit, rippling through my folds and deep into my core.

A soft grunt splashed against the window of the gondola.

My trembling hand reached down, batting Cymkor's hand away from the toy so I could take over.

"Tend to my breasts, Cymkor," I murmured, even as I flicked the buttons to send the pulsing to a deeper, more intense setting.

Cymkor chuckled and unbuttoned my vest. His hand disappeared beneath the fabric, groping my left breast through my silken undershirt and rolling a scarred thumb over my nipple. His hungry lips claimed the side of my neck, moaning against me, the vibration of that noise serving as a wondrous counterpart to the vibration thrumming between my legs.

"Gods' graves," Istvan hissed. "I can feel that."

He soon settled into a frantic, desperate pace as I stared out over the city. To my shock and delight, another gondola traveled passed parallel to us, coming within a hundred feet. Aboard were a few dozen young men and women who I guessed were university students heading out for a night on the town.

A handful glanced over and caught sight of me pinned against the glass. Their eyes widened. Some pointed. I blushed fiercely, though deep down I relished in the attention, remembering the worshipful need in the eyes of the supplicants at the Rite.

Another flick on the toy's controls sent me soaring higher and higher. By the time the other gondola slipped out of sight around another tower, I was already mewling and whimpering.

"Want to use her mouth?" Istvan asked Cymkor.

"My needs are already sated for tonight. Besides, that might take too long."

That sounded like a challenge. How much time had passed? In the haze inflicted by Istvan's cock and the buzzing toy, I couldn't have guessed.

I decided to risk it nonetheless. My free hand reached for the front of Cymkor's trousers, tearing at the belt buckle.

My climax struck the moment I took hold of his hardening shaft. My cry bounced off the walls of the gondola, slicing out through the night air. The trembling of my hand nearly forced me to drop the toy and my sweaty cheek braced against the window, drool leaking down the glass.

I sputtered out Istvan's name, rocking my hips back against him as he let out a triumphant laugh.

With the toy still buzzing against my clit, I took a deep breath and glanced over my shoulder.

"Out," I murmured, half-delirious.

He obeyed at once, slipping his cock out of me and taking a step back.

I fell to my knees, keeping one hand upon the toy so it continued to buzz against my aching sex. Eager to sate both of them before we reached the next station, my free hand took hold of Istvan's slickened shaft. As Istvan moaned beneath my eager strokes, I brought my lips down upon Cymkor.

My eyes fluttered at the taste of him and at the memories of how that cock had been inside me not that long ago.

After a half minute of gurgling and groaning against Cymkor, I switched over to Istvan. My moans rose and I took him as deeply as I could, while my hand worked against Cymkor's shaft.

Back and forth, teasing and tasting. Back and forth, allowing them to thrust against my mouth and use me.

Through it all, the toy buzzed and buzzed between my legs.

"Damn," Cymkor grunted, one hand reaching down to run through my curls. "We're coming up on the next station. Looks quite crowded."

Heat splashed through my cheeks at the notion of being witnessed by so many strangers. All too eager to claim my next climax and to meet that challenge, I bobbed my head all the more fiercely against Cymkor's shaft.

Certain that I could finish off Istvan faster given that he hadn't already climaxed that night, I put all my energy into sating Cymkor first. My free hand tended to his lower shaft while I suckled and licked at the tip. My eager eyes stared up at him.

"Please," I whimpered, the sound muffled around the twitching crown of his cock.

To show just how eager I was, I adjusted the setting of the toy to the most intense setting. It buzzed so loud that it drowned out my heaving gasps, but not my desperate whimpers and surging moans.

His scarred hand gripped the back of my head, guiding me nearly all the way down the length of his shaft. Squealing, my eyes rolled back into my head from the effort of taking him so deeply.

We came as one, his warm seed bursting into my heaving mouth, my pussy aching beneath the onslaught of that toy. Sensation rippled out from my clit, the vibrations of that toy taking over my entire body. His twitching cock muffled my desperate cry. My watering eyes fluttered, my core tensed, my thighs quivered, but still my work was not yet done.

Swallowing down as much as Cymkor's offering as I could, I turned away so I could tend to Istvan. Before my gasping lips could descend upon his prick, he lunged for me, grabbing my shoulders and shoving me to the floor.

I cried out, nearly losing my grip on the toy. With an animalistic fire in his gray eyes, Istvan knelt between my legs. Barely coherent and still reeling from the assault of that toy, I yanked up my dress.

He plunged inside of me. Deep. Domineering. Perfect.

The gondola rocked a little beneath the powerful movements of his body. My legs rose, wrapping around those brutal hips. I greeted each thrust with a needy moan or a desperate whimper.

We had to have been close to the next stop, but I didn't give a damn. I didn't care who saw or who heard...all I wanted was to feel his seed inside me, to hear him surrender to the delights of my body...

I didn't have to wait long.

With a growl, he pushed in deep and went still, one hand scraping against the floor beside my head, the other gently cupping my cheek. Our eyes widened as he came. A raspy moan burst from my lips, the sound dancing with his softening grunts and growls. One of those wild growls faded into something like a sob.

The wires of the gondala whirred and hummed, signifying that it was coming to a stop. And yet still I moaned with need when he pulled out of me. As Istvan panted and yanked his trousers back up, Cymkor helped me sit back down on one of the benches. I wiped drool and errant droplets of seed from my lips, then stashed my toy and smoothed out my skirts.

Anyone who looked at the disheveled state of us would surely suspect we'd been up to something.

"Gods' graves," I said with a wild, breathless laugh as the gondola came to a halt. "That was...risky."

And wonderfully delightful. It was just what I'd needed to let off steam before we embarked on our journey.

The doors to the gondola slid open. A dozen men and women boarded, all dressed in finery for a night out in the nicer taverns and theaters of the city. Most paid us no mind. A pretty, middle-aged woman glanced my way, smirked, and tapped her chin.

My eyes widened and I reached up for my own chin, realizing there was a single drop of Cymkor's seed that I'd missed. Blushing, I wiped it away.

Cymkor wrapped an arm around my shoulder and let out a long, contended sigh.

"A damned fine night," he murmured.

"Indeed," I said, my warm gaze darting back and forth between the two.

**

To my relief, both of my parents were asleep by the time I returned home. The sole servant on duty bought my story about being out late at the theater.

That wasn't precisely a lie, of course, so the excuse proved quite easy.

I awoke just before dawn, hoping I could slip out of the house before either of my parents awoke.

That hope proved to be a foolish one. My father emerged from the kitchen the very moment I reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Heading to the workshop early today?" he asked, a cup of tea in one hand and the morning paper in the other.

"Yes," I said with the best smile I could muster. "I've made some possible breakthroughs on a machine to assist with the harpooning of krakens. The most difficult matter will be convincing the corporations to spend the extra-"

"I'm not a fool, you know," he said, his eyes distant and his tone low. "Yes, I spend most of my waking hours daydreaming about some new invention, but I'm not a fool. Keeping odd hours, delving into strange new projects you've never mentioned before...I know you didn't listen to me. I know you didn't heed Miklos' warning."

After a deep breath, I lifted my chin and took a step closer, not intending to back down.

"I can't let this go, father. These people are responsible for worse crimes than the attack on the old manor. They killed people during the war. Soldiers. People like Gavriel. While those brave men were defending Raveth and liberating Sorthayl, those cultists were hunting loyal soldiers down like dogs, all because they happened to believe in a different set of superstitions."

"Gods' graves, you're as stubborn as I am. As stubborn as your brother." He swallowed. "I tried, you know. I tried so, so hard to get your brother to stay home. All I succeeded in doing was driving a wedge between us."

He set down his cup and paper before taking my hands.

"So if you are going to be as stubborn as him and try to fight this strange war...I will not make the same mistakes I did with your brother." Faint tears gleamed in his dark blue eyes. "I will not be an obstinate old man and try to control your life, causing you to resent me. I will help."

Taken aback, all I could do was tremble within his grasp, my eyes widening.

"Father," I murmured after a moment. "It's already a great enough risk. You have mother to worry about and the business-"

"I'm not foolish enough to think I can galivant off on some adventure," he said with a soft chuckle, as he raised a hand to cup my cheek. "But I can still help. Every spare automaton I have is at your disposal. I've already reprogrammed so they'll obey your every command. And if you are in need of funds, I've already sent a messenger to the bank with a request to make some transfers. You'll have all the platinum you need."

I blinked away tears of my own.

"Thank you, father."

"Thank your brother," he murmured, glancing at the doorway. "I went out and sat at his grave last night. Thought about him. And you. And what he would have done."

With a faint sob, I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around him.

"Thank you," I murmured against his shoulder, for a moment recalling the last time I'd wept in his arms, on the night we'd received news of Gavriel's death.

For a brief, terrifying moment I was snapped back to that grief-soaked night. A few deep breaths centered me, returning my focus to the present.

"I will return, father. The men who are helping me are very capable. I'll do all I can to stay out of harm's way."

"Good. And rest assured, my dear, I expect to have a detailed proposal for these kraken-hunting automatons you lied to me about."

I laughed and pulled my head from his shoulder, beaming up at the man who so closely resembled my departed brother.

"And it's probably for the best if we keep this from your mother, for the time being. It will be easy enough for me to spin a story about sending you to Urvport on some errand for the business. Better for her to believe that instead of knowing the truth. At least for now."

"Of course, of course. We wouldn't want to distract her from planning the next grand feast, after all."

We shared a soft laugh. After a soft kiss to his cheek, I pulled away, gave him my love, and scurried out the door.

**

Henryk let out a long whistle at the sight of my little army of automatons.

"Gods' graves, Lyneth," he said, looking over the sleek, wiry machines. "I'm not even sure we'll be able to fit all of those aboard. We can likely only take a dozen at most."

I glanced at his ship, which was perched at the end of a pier jutting from the windswept tower. It was a small, sleek vessel equipped with rune-tech engines and a few deck-mounted cannons for basic anti-piracy defense. Massive metal poles jutted from the hull in all directions, ready to unfurl the chemically-hardened sails to whisk it even faster through the sky. It was hardly a warship, but neither was the Errant Storm. Henryk just needed to get us close enough so we could get aboard.

Once I handed over the platinum, Istvan and Cymkor brushed past to load their weapons and gear. I sent back half of the automatons before directing the others to march aboard. They headed belowdecks to compress themselves down into neat little cubes until they were needed.

I ascended the ramp with Henryk's help, squirming a bit beneath the unfamiliar weight of the gun-belt upon my hips. Istvan and Cymkor had both insisted that I be armed. While I was familiar enough with weapons given the summer hunts my family went on, I'd never used a weapon in actual combat before.

With our army of automatons and the martial skill of my lovers, I hopefully wouldn't even have to draw the weapon at all.

Once we were settled in, Henryk introduced us to his crew: a rough and ragged band of men and women who looked to have been torn right from the pages of a pulpy adventure novel.

"How long do you think it will take?" I asked Henryk as he counted out the platinum bars I'd given him.

"Given the average speed of an ironclad like theErrant Storm, the distance to Urvport, and this beauty's speed...probably two days. With luck, we should catch them when they're still several days out from port. So there should be no prying eyes around to witness our little act of piracy."

"We're not pirates," I said, frowning. "We're taking that ship to rescue prisoners."

"And we're getting paid with the loot from that ship. That makes us pirates." He flashed me a wild grin. "Nothing wrong with that, of course. Piracy can be a perfectly respectable trade. Wouldn't be my first time engaging in it, either."

Henryk then helped affix me to a harness, which had a series of cables that would allow me to move freely about the deck while still keeping me tethered in case of a sudden gust of wind. Given how many times I'd flown before, I hardly needed the help.

Despite my many trips aboard other skyships, my heart still skipped a beat as the rune-tech engines ignited, sending a thrum through the hull. A crackling glow danced over the sails and the engines. Smiling, I braced myself against the railing and stared out at the gleaming sea.

The magnetic clamps gave way, dropping the skyship from the great metal spire. The engines flared, sending the skyship darting away from the tower. Within minutes we'd left behind the squalor and grandeur of Raveth and were skimming a few hundred yards above the sea.

When the reactor had generated enough power, the ship tilted upwards. Smiling, I closed my eyes and let the wind wash over my face. The sensation tore away the grief and unease, leaving nothing behind but the cool embrace of the salty wind.

We settled into a semblance of a routine over the rest of the day. With the help of the ship's engineer, I continued to modify my razorflies, adjusting them for deployment in the close quarters of the target vessel. With those smaller machines sorted, I reset the targeting parameters of the guardian automatons, programming them to prioritize non-lethal methods to subdue their targets. I wanted to ensure the captives survived the assault, while also ensuring that we took prisoners to learn more about that bloodthirsty cult.

When not tinkering, Istvan and Cymkor helped me practice with my revolver. We fired rounds over the side of the ship, occasionally tossing out half-rotted vegetables and fruit for additional practice.

I barely hit a damned thing, given the rocking of the ship and the wild arc of the targets, but it was an amusing enough distraction.

Target practice was far from our only distraction, of course.

With the small size of the berths, there wasn't enough room for all three of us at once, but we still nonetheless managed. First Istvan fucked me within my cot, fast and deep. Even as I'd twitched and gasped in the aftermath, Cymkor swapped in to take me for himself.

By the time Cymkor had finished using my mouth and taking what he'd needed, Istvan had recovered enough for another go.

For that entire first night they used me. I felt like a toy, just something to be used and discarded.

And I loved it.

The crew eventually complained about how much of a racket I was making, causing Cymkor to force me to bite down on a pillow while he plowed against me.

On the second day of the journey, however, there was no room for such distractions. With the possibility that we could catch up to theErrant Storm at any time, I wanted my mind and body focused completely on the task ahead.

As I worked on the automatons and undertook more target practice, the crew tended to the engines and sails, while bantering with each other about how they'd spend their earnings from the mission.

"I'll spend it on a whole night at that brothel in the Gilded District," said a burly, short-haired woman. "No. Make ittwo nights."

"Just make sure you save some of the coin for the potions to ward off the pox," said another sailor. "As for me...I'm thinking I'll head to Urvport and bet it all on the horses. There's a champion steed named after a battle I fought in back during the war. That's got to be a sign from the universe."